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i) iSi^ j M :MM i iiaaSiiSSa.Jl^ 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 

m^ <iiJM^* 1« 

IB'SB 

UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 




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RienisL* 



LeGGnos 



OTHER POEMS. 



OM MANI PADME HUM.-budd 




V 



New York : 
BROWN & D E R B ^', PUBLISHERS. 




v>*.. 



Copyright, 1883, by 
H. M. BIEN. 









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In 

place 



ERRATA. 

consequence of the great distance from the author to the 
of publication, the following errors remained uncorrected : 
38, line 9 read: -'Chasidim" instead of "the Chasi- 
dim." 

" That parents " instead of "And par- 
ents." 
"and there" instead of "and then." 
"concocted rash" instead of "con- 
cocted " 
" "concocted rash" instead of "con- 
cocted." 
" " curst " instead of " cursed." 
" curst " instead of " cursed." 
"was bereft a mother" instead of 

" mourns her lost — a mother." 
"a yearning mother " instead of " be- 
reft a mother." 
" moans " instead of " mourns." 
"Rest in peace! all" instead of 
" Reste in pace." 
add dash after " Ghetto." 
read " Till its abode, if " instead of " Until 
its abode." 



38, 

46. 
49- 

57. 

52, 

54, 
78, 

' 78 

78 
79 

125 
132 



19 

16 
16 



9 

7 
7 

15 

16 

7 

14 
15 



f 





tmts^m^ \ 0^. I - ^L * ' 




TO 

/IRs (Benerous Subscribere 

WHO 

HAVE SO KINDLY ENCOURAGED ME 

TO 

COLLECT THESE STRAY RHYMES OF MY LEISURE, 

AND 

TO THE INTELLIGENT READING PUBLIC AT LARGE, 

ALL OF WHOM WILL, IT IS HOPED, 

PATIEIITLY BEAR WITH THEIR MANY DEFECTS, 

THIS VOLUME 

IS RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED. 




CONTENTS. 



Proem, 



" 



ORIENTAL LEGENDS. 

The Birth of the Heart ii 

The Creation of Man, 15 

The Creation of Woman, ig 

Paradise Lost and Regained 22 

The First-Blown Rose 25 

Solomon's Judgment, . . . . , . .28 

King and Prophet, 32 

JOCHANNAN BeN SaKKAI, 36 

The Best and the Worst 43 

Dog, Horse, and Hog, 46 

Redeemed, 47 

Aqua Vit^ ; Or, The First Delirium Tremens, . . -49 

Torture (monologue from Drama " Genius "), . . 58 

The Accepted Pledge, 59 



STREET PICTURES. 
Street Pictures, 65 



LYRIC TRIFLES. 



Sonnet, 

In Memoriam — Adolph Cremieux, Life-Senator of France, 
Judge Not, Condemn Not, . . . 

Think of It, 

In Memoriam — William Cullen Bryant, 
Necrodulie — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, 
The Dead Rabbi — Rev. Dr. Max Lilienthal, 



77 
78 

79 
80 
82 
83 
84 




vl^x 



CONTENT^. 



The Song of the Jeweler, . 

Adieu, Adieu ! I Gave thee Up, 

To THE Memory of a Departed Friend, 

Nil Desperandum, 

I Think of Thee, I Think of Thee, 
To Love and be Loved in Return, 
To Love in Vain — What Agony ! . 
Song (from the Drama "Genius"), 
Song (from the Drama "Samson"), . 
Fourth of July, i86i, .... 



PAGE 

87 



90 
92 

93 
94 
95 
96 

97 



OTHER POEMS. 



Yah ! Yah ! . . . . 










lOI 




Bankrupt, .... 










109 \ 


( 


Sunset on Mount Davidson, . 










112 


r 


Ticonderoga Centennial, 










"5 \ 


1 


Serious Mistake, 










"7 


\ 


Washington's Judgment, 










"9 . 


\ 


The Whitewash-Brush, . 










122 ^ 


1 


Neir Tomid, .... 










124 


t 


Febrile Frenzies, . 










130 \ 


i'j 


The German Volunteer (1862), 










141 


i 


A Court Scene, 










143 ^ 


L 


Remorse, 










147 


\ 


Never, Never, Never ! . 










148 


\ 


A Centennial Poem — 1876, 










150 \ 


f 


The Collector's Wife, . 










153 


I 


The Russian Exile, 










157 




The Orphan Asylum in Vienna, 










163 


1 
1 


The Origin of the Diamond, 










166 


Uriel da Costa, 










168 


A Doctor's Panegyric, . 










171 


f 


An Appeal to America against Sec 


pari; 


vn a 


:jitat 


ions 


176 


h 



EPITOMA judaica. 
Dedicatory Address 




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ORIENTAL LEGENDS. 



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/ /lave read yoiir various '■^Oriental Legends" with great 
interest and pleasure. — H.W. Longfellow. 



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PROGm. 




THIS blank sheet of writing-paper 
At which I now careless glance, 
Half in dream and half in trance, 
Serves, perhaps, as toy or taper. 
At the will of fate or chance. 
In the cause of God or devil 
It may work for good or evil- 
Truth proclaim or ignorance. 

Or may be a merchant failing, 

Stays his ruin yet awhile 

With this scrap and by his guile. 
Nay, some prisoner at the railing 

Trusting Mercy's hopeful smile. 
Feels his heart sink, deathly smitten. 
When the jury's verdict, written. 

By this paper, goes on file. 

Or perchance some bashful lover. 
With a trembling or a frown, 
Tries to write his passion down; 

Or the leaf becomes a cover 





PROEM. 

For some trick of rogue or clown 
It has power to bind and sever, 
To enslave or free forever, 

Sink or raise a realm or crown. 

Who, who dare claim the decision 
Its true purport or its way 
To predict, or guess, or say? 

Such, ha, ha! is human vision! 
Speculate as e'er we may. 

It ends most like this in vapor ; 

Served already has the paper 
For a Minstrel's roundelay. 






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THE BIRTH OF THE HEART. 

HAVE ever you heard the tradition of 
old, 
Amongst the Orientals often told, 
How that beautiful part, 
The human heart — 
Heaven's own image and counterpart. 
Angelic essence, spirit and mould — 
Was wrought at the final hour of creation. 
Idea sublime, God's best inspiration ? 

The story is certainly good to repeat ; 

And thus it doth run : All fair and complete, 

The universe stood, 

In the attitude 
Of youth and perfection, grand and good. 
The Sabbath approached. At the Maker's feet, 



\^ 



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t 



ORIENTAL LEGENDS. 




In clay, stood the form of Adam created ; 
The breath of- life he only awaited. 

The angels to whom had been assigned 
The forming of first of humankind, 

With pride and zest 

Had done their best 
To make him superior to all the rest — 
Perfection, use, and beauty combined. 
Alas! the most vital part, they lamented, 
Had been forgotten ; too late they repented. 



The heart they omitted ! In trouble and shame 
Bowed down before the Almighty, they came. 

" How shall we atone 
For duty undone?" 
Then spake the Lord: "Peace, every one! 
Go gather quick, in My holy name, 
What fragments are left from My six days' 

labor." 
Each joyfully hastened away with his neighbor. 



And presently every one returns 
In hope that speed forgiveness earns. 
And such a string 
Of scraps they bring, 





| u^ 'i i <L 




THE BIRTH OF THE HEART. 

Incongruous and every tiling-. 
It seems they gathered from endless concerns 
Abundance of stern and grotesque material, 
Solids and fluids, gross and aerial. 

One brought of lion's pomposity, 
Another of tiger's ferocity; 

With jackal's greed, 

And antelope's speed. 
Courage and pride of the wilderness' steed , 
The fox's guile, the wild goat's glee, 
The serpent's cunning, the lamb's mild fea- 
tures — 
The virtue and vice of all living creatures. 

The song of the birds, the howl of the wolf; 
The ripple of fountains, the roar of the gulf; 

The flowers' perfume; 

The smell of the tomb ; 
The light of the sun and dark night's gloom ; 
With acid muriatic and nitric and sulph., 
Heat of the flame and glaciers frozen — 
Of life and death some each had chosen. 

The Lord in mercy and kindness smiled 
When He saw what was brought to His hu- 
man child ; 




w 



And He added Love — 

Bright, shining dove ! — 

Strengthened by Hope for here and Above, 

And covered the whole with Charity mild ; 

Then breathed in man's nostrils the life he 

awaited. ■ 
And Sabbath had come ! The World was 
created ! 



^ 



Thus runs in tradition the legend of old, 
Amongst the Orientals often told: 

How that beautiful part, 

The human heart — 
Heaven's own image and counterpart ; 
Its angel essence and spirit and mould. 
Idea sublime, God's best inspiration — 
Was wrought at the final iiour of creation. 





THE CREATION OF MAN 



\ 



" And Elohitn said, Let us make man in our own image and 
likeness." — Genesis i. 26. 

FROM out the quaint Agadah * of old 
Talmudic fame 
This mystical tradition of man's creation 

came : 
In six days were completely the earth and 

heaven made, 
With all their hosts — "And very good they 
are ! " the Lord hath said. 
Entire the work is done, 
Except the final one — 
That one in whom without a doubt it shall 

be demonstrated : 
He is the crown and masterpiece of every- 
thing: created. 



Then each celestial legion, the angels far and 

near. 
Immediately were summoned for council to 

appear. 



\ 







i6 



ORIENTAL LEGENDS. 



/ 



Harmonious ring hosannas in welling, swell- 
ing tone, 

Till music fills the endless sphere, when God 
spake from His throne : 

" My will, My scope and plan. 
It fits: let Us make man! 

To rule the world and all thereof 'tis My ma- 
ture reflection ; 

But whosoever choose may urge now any fair 
objection." 



Forthwith entreated Justice, whose words 

like prayer seem : 
" Thy wisdom. Heavenly Father, in all things 

is supreme ! 
But man called to existence will right defy, 

and oh ! 
With cruelty, wrong, and lawlessness, with 

anguish, tears, and woe. 

The guiltless earth he'll fill ; 
Therefore abide Thy will ! 
Ah L keep unstained this perfect world, whose 

beauties are unnumbered ; 
Create him not, nor mar nor spoil this globe 

by man encumbered." 





' 




THE CREA TION OF MAN. 



The angel Truth next uttered this earnest, 

fervent plea : 
" We all submit devoutly to Thy divine decree. 
() Father! wherefore wilt Thou not from this 

work abstain ? 
For man. when once created, will never more 

refrain, 

Witli calumny and lie. 
Thy kingdom to defy ; 
Veracity from earth will part, and happiness 

will vanish. 
Create him not! Thus falsehood Thou wilt 

from creation banish ! " 




Now Freedom quick stepped forward and 
pleaded piteously : 

" If Thou, O God I must fashion this man, let 
me first die ; 

For in his wake are coming destructive, crush- 
ing trains — 

Oppression, tyranny, and slaves with shackles, 
bonds, and chains. 

His advent sure will stay 

On earth Thy glorious sway." 








ORIENTAL LEGENDS. 



All Heaven seemed moved at these sad words, 
tearful exclaimed and kneeling: 

"Create him not! leave man undone ! "—thus 
Liberty's appealing. 



There was a hush of silence, as from the fore- 
most band 

A trio of seraphim came forward, hand in 
hand ; 

Like symphonies resounded sweet their united 
prayer : 

"Create, O Lord! create Thou man; entrust 
him to our care. 

Untired and firm, though mild, 
We'll ever lead Thy child 

From sin and error of the earth, high to sal- 
vation's region. 

Create him, Lord ! " thus loud implore Love, 
Faith, and Hope — Religion. 




From dust of earth Elohim formed man, to end 

this strife. 
And then into his nostrils God breathed the 

breath of life. 




! 




THE CREA TION OF WOMAN. 

In his own image and likeness created Adam 

He: 
And blessed him with dominion o'er the land 

and o'er the sea ; 

Endowed him most sublime, 
To reach his goal betime, 
Ordaining that humanity in h(jly troth be 

plighted 
To Justice, Truth, to Freedom, Love, to Faith 

and Hope united. 



THE CREATION OF WOMAN. 

THUS runs the parable the rabbins have 
related 
How in the world's beginning woman was 
created : 
" It is not good that man should be alone," 
The Lord said, as He summoned to His 
throne 
The hosts of Heaven. "Adam must be mated ! 
God and two loving hearts alone shall be 
but One." 






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ORIENTAL LEGENDS. 




\ 

i 



And then was broug-ht before the angels with- 
out number 
Adam, the first of man, in deep and death like 
slumber. 
To every human part was speech supplied, 
For each to state which one should make 
the bride. 
They must, however, not God's plan encumber, 
Her truly to become his helpmate, friend, 
and oruide. 



Now Heaven was filled with loud and eloquent 

recitals 
Of heart and brains, of trunk and all the limbs 
and vitals. ' 

Each one most fervent urged his special 

cause. 
As litigants obscure or unmade laws. 
Such stretched importance, claims, unheard-of 
titles ! 
One would have thought the world with- 
out them came to pause. 

At last, when vanity and self-praise long had 

spoken, 
A rib stood bashful forth and plead : " I'm 

but a token 




THE CREA TION OF WOMAN. 

Of modest merit, trying by the grace 
i 'U Of Thee, my Maker, to fill out my place ; 

I know that I must bend, or will be broken ; 
Submission is my claim, unselfishness my 
case." 

" Thou art the chosen ! " spake the Lord, " and 

here I shower 
Upon thee all man's highest concentrated 
power." 
One touch of His creative hand did weave 
Such beauty, grace, such love, strength to 
believe, 
Such amiability, a woman's dower, 

That all celestials sang hosanna — born was 
Eve. 




Then Adam woke, and there beheld with dazed, 

sensation, 
His loving, longing, fervent, erst imagina- 
tion ; 
The being comely, modest, pure, and fresh, 
Into his arms entwines as in a mesh. 
" Thou mother of all future generations, 
Bone art thou of my bone," he cries, " flesh 
of my flesh ! " 





\l 




ORIENTAL LEGENDS. 

Thus runs the parable the rabbins have re- 
lated, 
How in the world's beginning woman was 
created. 
And God blessed marriage, and this law 

He gives: 
That man his father and his mother leaves; 
And when two hearts in love are truly mated, 
They One become, as each unto the other 
cleaves. 



1 



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PARADISE LOST AND REGAINED. 

MOST tender of stories the East has re- 
tained, 
How Eden was lost once and full}' regained. 
Inscribed in their lore-books, they always in 

dite it 
The song of " Sweet Home ! " and they often 
recite it. 





For primal transgression were banished precise, 
The first of our parents from out paradise. 
An angel came quickly, expelling the mortals. 
His sword, with its flaming sweeps, guarding 
the portals. 




I'l -^. > <L 1 *"^ ^>^^ 



PARADISE LOST AND REGAINED. 



Forlorn and bewildered, and all in despair, 
Stood, weeping and moaning, the desolate pair. 
Now Adam exclaimed loud : " From Eden 

drove hither, 
Where shall we find comfort? go whither — 

oh ! whither ? " 

And Eve on his bosom did pitiful cry : 
"Alas! disobedient and sinful was I." 
As thus they lamented, the angel felt sorry 
To see them thus troubled, to hear them thus 
worry ; 




'! 



And slowing the swing of his glittering blade, 
In mildest of accents he unto them said : 
"Bewail your apparent misfortune no longer; 
Subihission and patience make all of us stronger. 

" Resign ye the loss— by God it was planned. 
Now make you an Eden yourself! Understand, 
No matter how poor and no matter how 

wealthy ; 
No matter how suffering, ill, or how healthy ; 

" No matter the distance, condition, or time, 
And spite of all hardships of seasons or clime ; 





"T^ ' ":> i—i ^rii i 



ORIENTAL LEGENDS. 




No matter what Providence fates for to-mor- 
row, 

Come tears or come smiles, come joy or come 
sorrow ; 

" Wherever you wander and whither you roam. 

Your Eden you'll find where you build up your 
home — 

A home filled with quiet, with peace, and con- 
tentment. 

Without the arch-temptei, the serpent Resent- 
ment; 

" A home which is filled with the purest of love. 
With best gift of Eden — the trust in Above." 
So spoke the kind cherub ! They listened as- 
tonished ; 
In heart and in soul they felt strong, thus ad- 
monished. 

Thus regained for man is, by angel's advice, 

The Home ! May God bless it — ^the lost Para- 
dise ! 

From th' East to the West, by all nations des- 
canted. 

The song of " Sweet Home " will forever be 
chanted. 




\ v^ I ■» <L— ^^^L*" 



If 



T//£: FIRST-BLOWN ROSE. 





THE FIRST-BLOWN ROSE. 



IT is not every one who knows 
How erst bloomed forth the first blown 

Rose, 

As sung in grove and told in tent, 
A legend of the Orient ; 
Still cherished as in by-gone times. 
Thus run the rhythm and the rhymes : 
Where the desert meets the mountain rising 

from the burning sands. 
Far away from palm and lotus, crippled, dwarfed, 

a thorn-bush stands. 
Never had a flower opened from beneath its 

twigs or leaves ; 
Covered with the dust of ages, droopingly it 
sways and grieves. 
From afar and from anear 
It must, humbled, mutely hear 
Taunt and spite, and sore reproaches of luxu- 
riant oasis ; 
From the haughty Leb'non cedars to the tini- 
est valley daisies. 



^E^ 








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V 




ORIENTAL LEGENDS. 



II, 



'Tis even-tide. The Occident glows. 
Now big dew-tears the foliage throws 
On parched roots which claw the rocks, 
When far away the bleat of flocks 
Wakes faint the echoes from the height, 
From whence a man appears in sight. 
Tenderly the shepherd carries on his breast a 

little lamb 
Which had stra3'ed and would have perished, 

separated from its dam, 
Had not lovingly its guardian, Moses, safely 

borne it hence. 
Then it was resolved in Heaven, by decree of 
Providence : 
Who such tender mercy shows 
To dumb creatures' need and woes. 
Sure is fit for greater labor; his shall be the 

high commission, 
That he lead, from Egypt's bondage, Isr'el free 
to noblest mission. 



III. 

As down the steep declivity 

The Hebrew prophet comes, lo ! see, 



* 



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'! 




THE FIRST-BLOWN ROSE. 



At Horeb's base, the strang-est fire ! 
It burns and burns, nor does expire ; 
Nor does consume a single rush; 
Nor smoke exhales the flaming brush ! 
Exodus, the whole third chapter, this event in 

Holy Writ, 
Full of highest inspiration, hath recorded, 

grandly fit : 
Miracles wrought here at nightfall, stay of 

some of Nature's laws. 
These sublime events foreshadowed Free- 
dom's origin and cai^se. 
First-blown Rose, traditions say. 
Graced the bush at dawn, of day; 
And its glorious seed grew ever, envy of all 

vegetation. 
Desert-born, it blooms, an emblem: Ileaven'sf 
true love for God's own nation. . 





ORIENTAL LEGENDS. 



SOLOMON'S JUDGMENT. 

THE holy tabernacle, the people's outer 
court, 
Is thronged, for all Jerus'lem is wild with 

strange report. 
Yet soon the stirred commotion subsides and 

all bend low — 
King Solomon is coming in royal pomp and 
show. 




The silver horns' alarum proclaim in clarion 
tone: 

His majesty for judgment ascends his father's 
throne. 

No precedent had ever the case he is to hear ; 

Before the high tribunal two women do ap- 
pear. 



One brings in court an infant — a lovely, living 

child, 
Sublimely personating all that is pure and 
lild. 




\l 




SOLOMON'S JUDGMENT. 

The other, too, she carries a boy, but he is 

dead — 
Like envy and disappointment is drooping low 

her head. 

" My Lord, oh ! give me judgment," she with 

the corpse exclaims ; 
" This wicked woman weeping, her sex and 

nation shames. 
One dwelling since Passover we occupied 

alone. 
And both became there mothers ere yet a 

month was gone. 

" Imagine, then, my terror, at break of day 

this morn, 
Awaking from my slumbers I'd nurse the 

newly-born ; 
I find this choked, dead bastard right lying 

on my arm — 
Exchanged she had the infants : her own did \ S 



meet with harm ! " 

Thus hoarse, yet loud, she clamors, in attitude 

to wrest 
The suckling who is closely hugged to the 

other's breast. 



' 



<! 




iwr^ ■■W "^gmmm^r^ 



ORIENTAL LEGENDS. 



But the accused sobs broken: " O king ! do 

hear me plead ! 
This is my own, believe me — my flesh and 

blood indeed." 

" The little one — behold him ! How sweetly — 
see, he smiled ! 

Oh ! surely thou wilt never bereave me of 
my child ? " 

" Thy child ! -No, mine! " alternate vociferous, 
they repeat. 

But now the king bids, " Silence ! " while ris- 
ing from his seat. 

A bodyguard he summons: "Both children 

take, and hew 
Them firmly with thy broadsword, for Justice 

sake, in two ; 
And give to each her portion — the living one 

slay first." 
"So mote it be!" cries boldly the one who 

spoke out erst. 

According to the mandate, the soldier, though , 

he shakes, 
His weapon raised ' already, the weeping ijifant '■■. 

takes. , .'..n.o 




« 



If 



SOLOMON'S JUDGMENT. 

" Have mercy ! " cries the other ; " give her 
the live child — stay ! " 

" No," qiioth the first, " divide them ; let Jus- 
tice have her sway." 

" Hold, hold ! " commands the sovereign. He 

gladly was obeyed ; 
■And from the throne descending, to her who 

kneels he said. 
While in his arms, moved deeply, the babe to 

her he bore : 
"Thou truly art his mother! I doubt thy 

claim no more. 

" Here, take thy son ! " The people shout till' 
the air did ring : 

" Hail ! God hath given wisdom to Solomon, 
our king ! 

Thrice hail ! He hath established the law di- 
vine Above : 

It shall be known for ever a mother's heart 
and love ! " 





ORIENTAL LEGENDS. 



KING AND PROPHET. 

" Come now and let us reason together, saith the Lord : Though your 
sins be as scarlet, they shall become as white as snow ; though they be red 
like crimson, they shall be as wool." — Isaiah i. i8. 

I. 

YON in his blood lies welt'ring- a noble 
warrior slain, 
Betrayed by royal sycophants, a hero in their 

craven train ; 
Unto his wife the sovereign adulterous love 

has nursed, 
Therefore Uriah needs must die, but David 
lives disgraced and cursed. 

II. 

The misled woman sobs, all fears, 
Uncomforted, in floods of tears : 
" I loved him, heart and soul, alone ; 
My grief will not my guilt atone." 




Since David in her arms reposed 
Sleep never has his eyelids closed ; 
A bloody shadow of affright, 
A spectre haunts him day and night. 



> 




J^IJVG AND PROPHET. 
III. 

Crowned and sceptred sate 

In the temple's gate 
David as judge — in Hebrew, " Shofet." 

He and the people behold, 

In dignity of old, 
Nathan, the aged seer and prophet. 



U 



\ 



Cries : '*' Whom wrongs aggrieve 

Justice must receive, 
King ! — for this are kings appointed. 

List, then, to my case, 

Heartless, vile, and base. 
And redress it, Lord's anointed ! 



IV. 




" Sire, there lives within thy realms 
One whom fortune ever favored, 
But, though wealth him overwhelms. 

Greedy, he has never wavered 
To envy his poor neighbor's share — 
An only lamb, his love and care. 
4 






iU'^ 11 1^ m ^^ ^tJ' 



ORIENTAL LEGENDS. 

" Guests came to the miser ; hence, 
Spite remonstrance, spite of tear, 

He forthwith, on some pretence, 
All that to the poor is dear 

Kills ; the cherished pet it died. 

Sire, thy judgment I abide." 

Wild with indignation cries 

David, rising : " Here I swear 

The villain who hath done this dies ; 
Let his goods the pauper share ! " 

" King ! thou art that man ! " the seer 

Answers. " Be accursed for e'er ! " 



V 



V. 

Ah ! Death spares not youth and never minds 
age; 
A beggar he smote on the street, and since 
He gathered a fool and garnered a sage, 
And from David's palace he snatched him 
a prince. 

The stricken parents stand by the corse. 

Lamenting and weeping in anguish and fear; 

Royalty harrowed with deepest remorse. 

His eyes overflowing with tear upon tear. 




But all at once a sudden impulse 

Comes o'er the father; he kneels by his 
dead. 
The heart which revolted, his feverish pulse, 

Grow quiet, and upward his gaze is led. 

Resigned, he folds his hands and prays: 

" Heavenly Father, deign list to my word : 

Sinner I am, and just are Thy ways. 

Yet deal with me merciful, Lord, O my 
Lord ! " 

The prophet, behold { he stands by his side 
And bids him arise, for God commands. 

Curses are powerless when we confide 

In Providence ; trustful raise hearts and 
hands. 



W 

P 

I 

U 



Exalted the king and consoled he became, 
Exclaiming these words immortally graced ; 

" The Lord hath given and taken ; the name 
Of the Lord forever and ever be praised ! " 





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\i 






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ORIENTAL LEGENDS. 



JOCHANNAN BEN SAKKAI. 



A HISTORICAL SKETCH. 



KM 



THAT was the strangest fun'ral which 
ever was beholden 
Among the Hebrew people of modern times 

or olden. 
No crowd of mourners follow, nor music's 

muffled strain. 
Two students lift the coffin, one Rabbi heads 
the train. 
j From the city of disaster 

They'll carry out the master. 
Ben Sakkai — woe ! the priest is dead ! The 

sad report goes quickly out, 
'Midst siege beyond, turmoil within, and gen'ral 
I broil and crazy bout. \ j 

Young Joshua and El'asar bear the pall with all 
W that's mortal ; 

Batiach old, the comrade true, leads to the for- 
tress portal. 




| u^ ■• ^ '^\. 







yOCHANNAN BEN SAKKAI. 
II. 



Up to the gate portcullised the burden slow 

is carried ; 
But there the sent'nel halts them, who rather 

not had tarried. 
" My orders are that nothing must pass be- 
yond the wall, 
Except I be permitted to first inspect it all." 
The leader, disappointed, 
Exclaims : " The Lord's anointed. 
When dead, who dares defile by touch, he is 

accursed! Come, let us go." 
"Move on! move quick!" rejoins the guard; 

" my nose tells all I need to know." 
Slow they proceed till soon is reached the 

gate ; then, like forsaken, 
They hurry to the Roman camp, where they 

are captives taken. 



Vespasian here, the gen'ral, for months has 
grimly striven 

To crush the hated Hebrews, to fierce sedi- 
tion given, 






^^ 1 "^n 



ORIENTAL LEGENDS. 



With battering-rams and siege-trains bombard- 
ing day and night 

Strong-fortified Jerus'lem, who resolute makes 
fight. 

But inside, mad contention, 
Fanatical dissension ; 

The sects and clans rage blind and tear the 
suffering people all apiece. 

The Chasidim * and the Sadducee, the Naza- 
rene and Pharisee — 

Each one strives for the mastery, to bring the 
others under; 

While outside steadily the foes against the 
city thunder. 




IV. 

In vain appeal the starving for bread or for 
surrender ; 

Despair and hunger vainly implore in tones 
most tender ; 

And parents their own children in frenzy slay 
and eat, 

And babes suck on dead mothers, their nour- 
ishment to meet. 

* Hebrew name of the Essenes ; literally the Pious. 






r^^ I »^ ii^LJ* 



=" -T» ' '^.j^ m i T^rt i 




JOCHANNAN BEN SAKKAI. 



Forsooth ! as in all ages, 
Prophetical the sages 
Proclaim such folly's certain end, and cry 
aloud : " For God's sake stay 
\\ This fratricidal, murd'rous feud, nor let your 

passions reign or sway ; 
Appease at once the conqueror, outside, while 

yet in season." 
But who has ever known wild mobs like these 
to value reason? 



W 



\^ 



V. 

When baffled in all efforts to have his warning 
heeded. 

To squelch rebellion and restore the union 
sadly needed ; 

When foiled in every measure to stay the 
wrath to come 

By flattering the enemy, their mighty foe of 
Rome, 

At last the high-priest wily 
A way devises slyly 

By which he'll save himself and people, al- 
though he sees the horror all, 

Sees Isr'el's nationality, her glory, and her 
Temple fall. 




^ U^ 9 ^L 



" 



ORIENTAL LEGENDS. 



*Tis patent in her hare-brained strifes, 'tis by 

her seers written : 
" So shall their mission be fulfilled ! so be her 

folly smitten ! " 




\S 



\ 



VI. 



Approved in sacred council, his death is soon 
reported ; 

He's laid into a coffin and out of town es- 
corted. 

And so that the deception in detail be com- 
plete, 

He suffers that beside him is placed some 
putrid meat. 

Most killed by suffocation. 
Yet soon his restoration 

In their besieger's camp is slow but fully by 
kind hands attained, 

While officers and soldiers laugh, nor silent 
would be or restrained. 

Forthwith the resurrected corpse into the 
gen'ral's presence 

Is led to make his errand known, its meaning 
and its essence. 



'f 




■ '•^-' "ly '^s * 



yOCHANNAN BEN SAKKAI. 



VII. 

" Know, chieftain ! paper arrows were shot 

thee from our city 
My prophecy conveying — remember it, I 

prithee ! 
Our God hath pleased to forestall through me 

that thou shalt reign 
The world as Latin emperor; now let me not 

in vain 

Beseech thee for this, favor." 

Thus plead, all in a quaver, 

The tottering, white-haired, aged priest: "Give 

us permission now to p-o 
Unto the town of Jabne, where we'll hide away 

from shame and woe 
Thou bringest on our people sure. Have 

mercy, Caesar — ora ! 
Let me establish there a school to teach our 

holy Torah." 




\^ 



VIII. 

The Roman mused a minute ere, deeply moved. 

addressing 
The captives ; he salutes them : " Give, Rabbins, 

me your blessing ; 

5 





ORIENTAL LEGENDS. 

Your modest wish is granted; now go ye hence 

in peace, 
And that your work may prosper, my prayer 

shall never cease." 

Soon after they departed : 
The Talmud-school was started, 
It rose and flourished grandly, too, as hist'ry 

does explicit tell, 
A bulwark to their people, who had seen how 

shrine and city fell. 
Tlie first of the " Ta-na-im " * here have taught 

what was most needed, 
A codex for all Isr'el, which has never been 

exceeded. 




IX. 

Empires have risen and fallen ; cities were built 

and destroyed ; 
Nations have flourished and withered ; war and 

peace were employed, 
Generation after generation, to shape and form 

incessant 
The status of society, the future, past, and 

present. 





| u^ ■< L i" ^ *< L.'" 



-jIP "a pwi^aw 



" 



THE BEST AND THE WORST. 

But nothing more conclusive 
In all proved so conducive 
For e'er to lead the human race unto its final, 

noble goal, 
To prop up tolerance and truth and elevate 

the human soul. 
Than law, philosophy, and rules, as taught 

here and expounded, 
The heirlooms from the "Jabne" school by 

this Ben- Sakkai founded. 




THE BEST AND THE WORST. 

SEARCH the bazaar," said the sheik to 
_ the slave, 

" And get me the Best which "the markets 
provide." 
The slave salamed lowly, the slave answered 
grave : 
" Thy will shall be done ; in my judgment 
abide," 
And soon, on returning, said : " Rightly or 

wrong, 
I bring here the Best of the market- 



I 



^ 




ORIENTAL LEGENDS. 



" Search the bazaar," said the sheik to the 

slave, 
"And get me the Worst which the markets 

provide." 
The slave salamed lowly, the slave answered 

grave : 
" Thy will shall be done ; in my judgment 

abide," 
And soon, on returning, said : " Rightly or 

wrong, * 

I bring here the Worst of the market — a 

tongue ! " 



l^ 



" Explain what thou meanest ! " cried the sheik 

to the slave. 
** I'll give thee thy freedom if well thou 

decide." 
The slave salamed lowly, the slave answered 

grave : 
" Thy will must be done ; my judgment 

abide. ^ 

Now listen and say if I'm right or if 

wrong: 
The Best and the Worst in the world is the 

tongue. 




g^^g=^^ g^:».s ^-^'^ sgK= 





l u^ "ti^ Sr^^^ 



■^^ 



THE BEST AND THE WORST. 

" The tongue to a freedman quick changes a 
slave ; 
The tongue enslaves quickly the tree, 
though he died ; 

The tongue rules the world, from cradle to 
grave ; 
The tongue sways the khedive and beg- 
gar beside." 

" Thy tongue made thee free ! Thou argued 
it strong," 

Laughed the sheik. " The Best and the Worst 
is the tongue ! " 




" 



V 





— -■-» ■ '"^ » 

ORIENTAL LEGENDS. 

DOG, HORSE, AND HOG. 

AN EASTERN FABLE. 

C"^ OOD neig^hbors and friends were a horse 
X and a dog. 
Not far from them wallowed a fattening hog. 
The first two were regularly fed thrice a day, 
While the sow is allowed to munch all that 

she may. 
Said the cur to the horse : " It seems not to 

me fair 
That the swine should eat more than belongs 

to its share." 




The stallion replied : " Wait a little, my friend ; 
Thou'lt see we fare best by our stint in the 

end." 
The piggy, well fattened, soon proved this no 

lie. 
Was brought to the shambles, and then had 

to die. 
When, seeing the carcass hung up, then the 

dog 
Did never more envy the luck of a hog. 




^ iJ-aL. • •mi ■ *">. ^l^' 



REDEEMED. 




REDEEMED. 



ARABIAN TALE. 



A YOUTH there lived whom Fortune, oft 
called blind, 
Gave all her precious gifts of form and mind, 
With such a noble heart as only can 
Make Heaven's fair image of a mortal man. 
And everybody eagerly pretends 
To love him — all profess to be his friends. 
Alas! this changed. Into temptation's power 
He fell, and sinned in an unguarded hour. 
If keenest agony atones, then sure 
Heaven hath received his contrite heart as 

pure. 
But then our hypocritic, callous world 
Its verdict, "Guilty," quick upon him hurled. 
Each finger points at the condemned; all eyes 
Frown on him, humiliating, worldly wise. 
For consolation to his mates he flees ; 
They knew him only in his luck and glees. 
One recognized him — ah ! with such a face 
As showed the great and condescending grace; 



ORIENTAL LEGENDS. 



O'erwhelms him — fie upon it ! — with the price 
Of shamming friendship, so-called good advice. 
Next his affianced love bade him to go, 
Inflicting on his heart most crushing blow. 
Faint, writhing and convulsed^ damned and 

decried. 
To his parental roof he homeward hied. 
Report, the ever-busy, meddling dame, 
Who circulates and magnifies our shame — 
She went before him. On the threshold 

stands 
His aged father, stern, with trembling hands; 
He bids him, " Hence ! I've lost my son," be 

told: 
" As his did mourn the Patriarch of old. 
As Jacob wailed his loved Joseph's doom, 
Uncomforted I'll go into my tomb." 
The youth drops staggering ; but in fond 

embrace 
Is caught, and kisses deck his death -pale 

face. 
With tears they're mingled, and the cry sobbed 

wild : 
" Oh ! can a mother e'er forsake her child ? " 
Both kneel. The father, too, no longer stands 
Unmoved ; he lifts and wide extends his hands, 



-3- 




\fj. 




^^%n '^_^ ^, '^n i 




AQUA VI T.^. 

And blesses them in pious, good old ways. 
" My lost is found again ! " he mildly says. 
Thus was one, else from sin to crime depraved 
A suicide, or worse, redeemed and saved 
By that great power, equalled but Above — 
A mother's tender and undying love. 



AQUA VIT JE\ 

OR, THE FIRST DELIRIUM TREMENS. 

KNOW ye the antique record how erst 
into this world 
The direst of all curses, King Alcohol, was 

hurled ? 
And how the Fates avenged it in body, heart, 

and soul 
On him who first concocted th' intoxicating 
bowl ? 



The night was dark and chilly, the storm made 

heaven weep. 
While all but crime and suffering were wrapt 

in dreamful sleep ; 

6 






i u^ i ^L i ^^^ ' ^L-^ 



ORIENTAL LEGENDS. 

Then in his laboratory — yon subterranean 

space — 
An Alchemist wrought miser)' e'er since upon 

our race. 



\ 



Around, rich candelabra pale ra^s, blue tinted, 

shed ; 
The hoarv, pensive student has leaned his 

withered head 
Against a solid column of cross bones, skulls, 

and books, 
While on a burnished hour glass he has bent 

his anxious looks. 

All treasures life doth offer he sacrificed as 

naught ; 
His golden locks untimely are bleached by 

ceaseless thought. 
For day and night he's pitying into forbidden 

lore ; 
He fain would solve the mystery, that death 

should be no more. 

And hark ! the dome serenely aloud proclaims 

the time. 
Twelve peals the echo vibrates like some 

weird, ghostly chime ; 





r^ip 



AQUA VITAi.. 

With its last sound the student is hastening 
to and Iro, 

A beverage to distil and b(jii above the em- 
bers' glow. 

'Tis the decisive moment — the midnight hour. 
On high 

He lifts a brimfid goblet, and spills some droj)S 
thereby ; 

The flames are whirling, whizzing, while caba- 
listic words 

lie mutters, and strange signs describes, and 
hell and heaven girds. 

The fire transforms its colors, a halo of sweet 

light 
In which are bands of angels enveloped fair 

and bright ; 
And strains of solemn music, breathed like 

^^olian strings. 
A monitor of good, these words the choir 

sublimely sings : 

" Touch not, lift not the poisonous cup ! 
Taste not, drink not a single drop ! 
Man's life is dark. 
Yet breaks a spark 



t 



I' 



V 



' / / 



» 



J 



52 ORIENTAL LEGENDS. 

Into his future, decked by night ; 

Faith with strong wing, 

And Hope the eternal beacon-light, 

From death its sting, from death its sting 

Long since did sever ! 

This is true blessing ; oh, beware ! 

Whoever durst 

Attempt to 'scape his mortal share, 

He shall be cursed ! forever cursed ! " 

Then dies away the music and pales again 

the fire, 
But in his breast burns fiercer the student's 

wild desire : 
He fills anew the goblet with bold, defying mien, 
The flames stirred up take human form, dark 

as the night has been. 

Satire and wile and cunning are twinkling in 

his e3'es ; 
Thus must have looked the tempter when in 

the snake's disguise. 
The student even trembles and utters loud a 

shriek. 
But " Silence ! " bids the spirit ; he thus is 

heard to speak : 



1 



\^ 



\i 






JQC/A VITM. 



" Man ! know thy father's name is lust, 

Thy mother's baptized weakness ; 
They glare to Heaven, but the dust 

They'll share in perfect meekness ; 
And their begotten offspring's fear, 

On Hope's sweet bosom nourished. 
Led to Religion's taming bier, 

A germ dead ere it flourished. 
'Tis thee! 'tis thee I like them thou diest, 
If thou not, brave and bold, defiest 
Those hands which chain thee to death's brink, 
Then drink! drink deep ! drink ever! drink!" 



And with satanic laughter the phantom dis- 
appears. 

The Alchemist is startled ; his blood and brains 
and tears 

Seem melted as by fire ; he loud and wildly 
laughed. 

The goblet then defiantly he emptied in one 
draught. 



Without, the storm is raging ; each angry 

thunderbolt 
Hurls flash on flash of lightning — a nocturnal 

black revolt ; 




ORIENTAL LEGENDS. 

Then sad through night and weather sound 

like a dying moan 
These words into the student's ear again, in 

plaintive tone : 

" Whoever durst 
Attempt to 'scape his mortal share, 
He shall be cursed ! forever cursed ! " 




The draught thus won at midnight, consumed, 

its power reveals, 
And, like a newly-born one, revived the old 

man feels ; 
At last, then, his ambition, the ideal ot his 

strife, 
He gloriously now has attained — th' Elixir of 

human life ! 



Thenceforth he has continued to mix, boil, 

and produce 
The Alcohol ; to his pupils he taught its make 

and use ; 
And with the new discovery all o'er our globe 

they went — 
To castles, churches, down into the hungry 

beggar's tent. 




■ •■l ' ^^ - ^^ 



AQUA VIT^. 

So time passed on. Yet never trom the de- 
cree of fate 

Can one escape; for certain it cometh soon 
or late ; 

And thus, too, found the student his final, 
di-eadful goal. 

'Tis midnight. Hark! what screams and yells 
through storm and thunder roll! 




W 



It wakes from sleep the people, it rouses old 

and young ; 
Unto the laboratory bewildered masses 

throng. 
And they behold with terror what man ne'er 

saw before — 
The first " Delirium Tremens " there, on its 

most hideous score. 



The ground, a raging maniac, his limbs in 
terror smite : 

Lo ! from his lips and nostrils break flames 
of purple light : 

He 'gainst the block of granite his skull con- 
vulsive throws. 

Until his blood, from gashing wounds, with 
brains mixed, fatal flows. 




V 




ORIENTAL LEGENDS. 



Thus died he, and was buried — none knows 
his grave or name, 

But still the curse eternal has been his awful 
fame. 

Where'er his poisonous beverage, the Alco- 
hol, was sent, 

It sounds, from church and castle down to 
the hungry beggar's tent. 




Widows, orphans, nations — all curse the hid- 
eous deed. 

As mothers do and fathers whose hearts were 
made to bleed ; 

And children will, while hungry, and crying 
loud for bread ; 

The noble, good, and pure — all curse the 
memory of the dead. 






Well known is yet, however, the laboratory, 

where 
The dram was first discovered ; 'tis still sold 
\ I freely there. 

The subterranean workshop has now been 

modernized — 
Yon bar-room 'tis, across the street, so much 

by drunkards prized. 




ii 



r 



AQUA VIT^. 



57 



They are the student's pupils, who nightly 
congregate, 

That they in drunken revels his doom per- 
petuate : 

For when they stagger homeward, sidis sense, 
and none be near, 

Then it is said the maniac's ghost doth nightly 
there appear. 



Through all the evolutions of the delirium 
he 

Must pass, a horrid spectre, till daylight sets 
him free ; 

And God in Heaven only will pardon his 
offence 

When the last inebriate takes the vow of to- 
tal abstinence. 






This is the antique record, how first into the 

world 
The direst of all curses, King Alcohol, was 

hurled : 
And thus the Fates avenged it in bod}^, heart, 

and soul 
On him who first concocted th' intoxicating 

bowl. 



►S- 



58 



ORIENTAL LEGENDS, 




TORTURE. 

MONOLOGUE FROM DRAMA " GENIUS. 



THE Buddha tells a tale which runs this 
wise : 

Ci"uel demons will mischievously at times 
Select a human being for their pranks. 
They grant him all the gifts of which are 

woven 
The precious jewel, mortal happiness : 
They grant him cruelly all but one ; that one 
Which forms the culmination-point and centre 
Of every other — the power to secure. 
His prize flits by him, never near* enough, 
In spite of all his efforts, to be grasped. 
They starve the hungr}^ victim 'midst of plenty ; 
They parch the thirsty lips in sight of foun- 
tains ; 
They freeze the heart in midst of vernal sun- 
shine ; 
They scorch the fevered brains in iciest winter, 
Until the gods in mercy interpose 



W 




THE ACCEPTED PLEDGE 




And grant him the possession of the price 
Of all his direful, undeserved suff'ring, 
Or move him from such power to higher 
spheres. 



THE ACCEPTED PLEDGE. 

THE B'douin's keen-edged cimeter is 
As cruel as lion and tiger are. 
He'll slay the men, enslave the women. 
But never has in peace or war 
His blade defiled 
By blood of child, 
For surely cursed were he and his, 

Dared he to brave the mythic lore 
Which every Arab knows and fears 

When Allah he heeds and dreads no more. 






Thus runs pathetical the story : 
When his ancestral kindred saw 

Themselves released from Egypt's bondage, 
Came unto Sinai for the law ; 
Heard was a cry 



' 





ORIENTAL LEGENDS. 

" What hostage will these people give 
My revelation and commands 

That they will cherish and obey, 

If I shall place them in their hands?' 

Then in the council of the nation, 

The prophet great, the elders wise. 
They offered memories hallowed, 

Progenitors in Paradise. 
Historic claims, 
The sainted names 
Of Abram, Isaac, Israel ; 

But not sufficient were these deemed. 
Birthright does not avail in Heaven: 

Each one must be himself redeemed. 



f 



' 



In second council of the people 

They all unanimous agree 
To turn bond one unto another, 

Themselves be their own guarantee. 
This sacrifice 
Would not suffice. 
For they were told in language plain, 

" You are unworthy and untried — 
Men who proved stiff'-necked and uncouth. 

Already have the laws defied." 




■ ss^sm^s^^k wm ^^^^- 





fUlBE 'i ^ l g ^— ^ * M[. ' 






THE ACCEPTED PLEDGE. 

A third time then they met together, 

" What can we offer loved and dear 
Which unreserved will be accepted 

Without a doubt, without a fear ? 
What is the best, 
All pure and blest, 
Such as we cherish more than life, 

By which our hearts and souls are swept? 
Our children let us offer ; sure 

These Justice certain will accept." 

And so it proved ! The bond thus given 

Abundant was, as well it might. 
The young and future generations. 

On Sinai pledged for law and right. 
In every clime. 
Unchanged by time, 
Were sacred held by friend and foe. 

None with impunity may wrong 
The children ; by this solemn act, 

Unto High Heaven they all belong. 




I 






ORIENTAL LEGENDS. 

WINE. 

A TALMUDICAL PARABLE. 

WHEN God the grape created, every 
vine 
He with a triple tincture fructified — 
With blood of lion, ape, and that of swine. 
Which in the ripened juice three proper- 
ties supplied : 

Drink once of wine, and you'll feel strong- 
and bold. 

Combative, brave, without discrimination ; 
You fancy strength increased a thousand-fold, 

A sovereign king of all the animal creation. 

Now drink again, and you are jolly, glad; 

You sing — it sounds like braying of a 
donkey. 
You jump and laugh and caper ; maudlin gad, 

Behaving like unto a veritable monkey. 

Now drink once more — you'll lose all self- 
control. 
You can no longer rant, but mumble, mutter. 
Unable on your feet to keep, you roll 

And wallow like a hog, low grunting in 
the gutter. 



'^ 




i u^ ■ ■<L ' ^<. m^ 










^ 



e; 



STREET PICTURES. 



-(?' 
•^r* 



^e^pji^ 



1 



if 




I. 

BEHOLD ! there staggers through the 
busy streets 
A drunken, low, degraded one, 
And every truant urchin whom he meets, 
In childish sport to be molested by. 
Seems sent to cry : 
Accursed of God, reel on ! 

This wretch who now is trundling to his 
home, 
Alas ! has lovely wife and child. 
The woman, anxious, waits for him to come. 
Though he maltreats, disgraces her, she yet, 
With face still wet, 
Waits for this man defiled ! 



'! 





6" TREE T PIC T URES. 

Who is this drunkard ? Of the many, one, 

With choicest gift upon his brow — 
Youth, health, and mind ; and these by drink 

undone. 
A stain and shame to high respected ties. 
The sot thus lies 
Low in the gutter now. 

There, look at him ! If struck by foul disease. 

Ay, even the dread pestilence. 
It could not have destroyed him with more 

ease 
Than does the damned poison in his veins, 
Which steals his brains — 
The dram's dire consequence. 




He loved her once — the woman now his wife. 

Had any other man dared make 
A ruffling shadow- pass upon her life. 
How he would wild with indignation start! 
And now her heart 

Too true, himself does break. 



He loved that babe ! When born to him, at first 
With pleasure wild he wept and smiled ; 
Then took the boy into his arms and burst 






> 




STREET PICTURES. 

Into a passionate, heaven-invoking prayer ; 
And now his heir 
He brands " the drunkard's child ! " 



Once his ambition soared for highest fame, 
The pride of all his friends awhile ; 

He long ago in rum drowned hope and name. 

Delirious most, of reason near bereft, 
All for him left 
Is but a lunatic's exile. 



How came this doom to pass ? take heed ; 
come, come, 
Young friends, be warned, imbibing host! 
In an unguarded moment he met some 
Hilarious company — ^drank once — he fell 
And, clutched by hell, 
Forever he was lost. 



^1 



Hence, hence! I'll lead him home! Our pic- 
ture will 
O'er all the world encountered be ; 
Till church and school unite 'gainst bar and still. 
True civilization trembles all afear, 
And drops a tear 
On man's depravity ! 





, U^ . H I '^ M rfr^ 



STREET PICTURES. 



^%.i 



II. 

Right through tlie middle of the street, 
In rain or sunshine, storm or sleet — 
Most with bundles, with coffers some — 
That's the way our " greenhorns " come. 

The women are buxom, and strong the men- 
German or Irish, no matter; when 
They touch the ground of this free Land, 
Re-born are all in heart and hand. 



Settling soon 'midst friends near and dear — 
There are no stranijers among: us here. 
Though some become servants and " help " 

for a time. 
None are made slaves but committers of crime. 

Open to all is the area of wealth — 
Open to all the sources of health. 
Thus many c poor one few 3^ears ago came, 
Who now. has attained high position and fame. 

'Tis so with the emigrant women of now ; 
"Lis'le" becomes a fat Dutchman's frau ; 
Bidd}^ is married unto her old beau — 
And that is the way our " greenhorns " go ! 




STREET PICTURES. 



\v 



} 



III. 

Please give me a penny ! I'm luingiy and 

cold! 
My mother at home is sick and old. 
Please give me a penny ! My father has 
Been in prison for weeks, alas ! 

He had no work, and we had no bread ; 
And he wished himself and all of us dead. 
And then he drank liquor — it set him 

wild ; 
And he struck poor mother and me, his child. 

When first I visited him in the cell 

He huo^ored me so close and with such a 

yell ! 
And he cried and sobbed, and sobbed and 

cried, 
'Midst kiss and caresses I had to chide. 

So give me a penny, if you think meet, 
Wherewith to buy bread for mother to eat. 
Say you, sir, all this money is mine ? 
Thank God and bless you ! — it pays father's 
fine. 






V 




STREET PICTURES. 



I need not beg to-night any more ! 
We shall be happy as we were before 
And all in return I can offer to give, 
You I'll remember as \ox\z ^s I live. 




IV. 



V 



Through all the town, 'midst clatter and din, 
Cries loud a voice : "Ho! who will buy sin?" 

Buy sin in most hideous, repulsive guile — ■ 
Woman abandoned, degraded, and vile ; 

And, as she wanders to and fro. 
Proclaiming: "Society made me so!" 

Society, boasting of virtue sublime, 
Vet pressing us creatures into crime ; 



Building churches, all velvet-pewed. 
Yet making her daughters debased and 
lewd ; 



Sending the children t(3 Sunday-school, 
Then throws them into a fiery pool ; 

Society- dancing for charity's sake, 

While lives are perishing, souls are at stake ; 

Robbing the masses wholesale, and then 
Gives them a penny to starve in a den ; 

Boasting enlightenment, science, and art, 
While hunger and ignorance never depart; 

With all the progress but for the rich; 
For the rest aye misery, prison, and ditch ; 

Society, meaning the moneyed folks. 
While secret she fun at poverty pokes ; 

Marshaling 'gainst virtue the glitter of 

wealth ; 
Cursing the wanton she maketh by stealth. 



If 



I Will ye who are guiltless now cast the first 
1 stone 

I On outcasts, who. Heaven grant, may yet 
I- atone ? 



►E- 




.i.r.,t».>au^._.i..^,P.M^.i^u^w... «i^^..^P^:ir^ 






■STREET PICTURES. 

While all through the town, 'midst clatter 

and din, 
Cries loud a voice: "Ho! who will buy 

sin ? " 



Buy sin in most hideous, repulsive guile- 
Woman abandoned, degraded, and vile ; 

And, as she wanders to and fro, 
Proclaiming: ''Society made me so!" 



V. 



On the first floor in the parlor 
A lass, all youth and glee, 

Sits, by her beaux surrounded- 
Young Southern chivalry. 



Under her window the orsfan 
A one-armed soldier grinds ; 

The scar across his forehead 
Of battle hot, reminds. 



!^^^«^H=S« 



y\ 



STREET PIC T URE S. 



73 



Those up ill the parlor are laughing; 

They bask in comfort and ease, 
While, shivering, the invalid freezes — 

A Union-defender in peace. 

The girl leans out of the window 

And throws him a coin from her hand 

" Take this ; and now, old beggar. 
Come play us ' Dixie Land ! ' " 

But through the open window 

He hurls the money back; 
Then tighter the crank he clutches, 

While slowly making track. 



And fast and fierce he's grinding 
The tunes of the boys in blue- 

AU-conquering " Yankee Doodle," 
And " Hail Columbia " too ! 



A man across the corner 

Has watched the curious scene ; 

He knew the maimed, brave fellow- 
Had his commander been, 
9 



y. 




„i^ »^ i ^V I 



STREET PICTURES. 




"Well done, my noble comrade!" 
And brightly shone his eyes ; 

"Thou shalt find home and comfort!" 
He with emotion cries. 

" Here, take my hand as token : 
Long- may the Union wave ! " 

His word has broken never — 
His general true and brave ! 







y^ 



... ^ 
-^ — 



(^ 



LYRIC TRIFLES. 



-&' 



\^ 



\ 




> X 




SONNET. 

DISSONANCE and Harmony combined 
Form that sweet music which unlocks 
our soul 
And makes the ear feast under its control. 
Thus is the heart, too, touched, if we can find 
The poet's song, conveying to our mind 
Word music. Alternately should roll 
The tears of woe and anguish copious flow- 
in o" 
Dissolved by sparkling wit and joy all glow^- 

My songs were culled in such varieties 
Of wine and love, intrigue and merry glees. 
Alas ! I hear the living and the dying 
Cry loud for help and see all the degrees 
Of misery in all its stages. Denying 
Me all — but dissonance and gyrating melodies. 




^ 




LYKIC TRIFLES. 

IN MEMORIAM. 

ADOLPH CREMIEUX, LIFE SENATOR OF FRANCE. 

YISGADAL w'yiskadash!* 
The Hebrew's mourning- prayer — 
Resounds in temple and synagogue ; 
For Time, the cruel sla3'er, 
Laid fatal hand upon a chief. 
All Isr'el is in tears and grief. 
As Rachel mourns her lost — a mother — 
We Cremieux mourn — our brother. 

Yisgadal w'yiskadash ! 

Religion feels extending, 

Wherever people worship God, 

The woful loss, heartrending. 

Alike for Gentile and for Jew 

A great man left us — good and true. 

Religion, like bereft a mother, 

She Cremieux mourns— our brother. 

Yisgadal w'yiskadash ! 
Law, Justice loud are wailing. 
Oppressed of every land and clime 
May well feel faint and failing. 



1 



* " Be exalted and sanctified." The beginning words of the Hebrew 
prayer for the dead, called " Kadish." 







JUDGE NOT, CONDEMN NOT. 



For Freedom lost one of her stays 
When death cut short his mortal days. 
Truth sorrows like a stricken mother 
Cremieux is dead— our brother. 

Yisgadal w'yiskadash ! 
Humanity in anguish 
" Reste in pace ! " trembling weeps, 
Nor soon her woe will languish. 
For God hath stilled a human heart 
In which the whole world had a part. 
Humanity, our common mother, 
Weeps Cremieux ! — weeps our brother! 



JUDGE NOT, CONDEMN NOT. 

T UDGE not, condemn not ! Men who 

I are accused 
*- Often are guiltless and cruelly abused. 
Error is quick, restitution comes slow ; 
Be not foremost the first stone to throw. 
Time enough, time enough guilt to de- 
plore ! 
Judge not — wait till the trial is o'er! 



8o LYRIC TRIFLES. 

Often appearances tend to betray, 
Often passions our judgment sway, 
Often is innocence foully assailed — 
Truth is naked, while falsehood is mailed 
Honor once taken you cannot restore. 
Judge not — wait till the trial is o'er I 



Ere the fair fame of a brother you doom, 
Ponder as if you stood over his tomb; 

I Dip it in kindness, steep it in love ; 

Handle it tenderly— think of Above ! 

i* Judge not, condemn not! 'twas bidden ol 

i yore. 

■i: . . . . , 

^ Judge not — wait till the trial is o er. 



THINK OF IT. 

THINK of it ! our joy and sorrow 
Of the present, of the morrow, 
Love and hate, and hope and fear, 
Friends afar or e'er so near, 
All must die to live ! — 'tis writ. 
Think of it, Oh ! think of it. 




THINK OF IT. 

Think of it! then let no trouble 
E'er attempt its share to double. 
Think of it, and let no joy 
Time of more importance c\oy. 
All must die to live!— 'tis writ. 
Think of it, Oii ! think of it. 

Think of it ! for all affection 
Cannot stay its deep deflection ; 
Nor may hatred at the best 
Tmie in his due course arrest. 
All must die to live!— 'tis writ. 
Think of it, Oh! think of it. 

Think of it!' when fearing, hoping— 
We're not e'er in darkness groping. 

Those afar or e'er so near 

Think of it and never fear: 
All must die to live!— 'tis writ. 
Think of it, Oh ! thmk of it. 






LYRIC TRIFLES. 




IN MEMORIAM. 

WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT. 

WEEP, nation of America — mourn, all 
the world! 
A man whose fame around humanity is furled, 
A great, good man, is dead! His life had 

been anointed, 
A bard and seer, by the hand of God ap- 
pointed ; 

His words and thoughts and deeds harmo- 
nious pearled 

As one great poem, most sublimely wrought 
and jointed, 

A never-dying song contained in this syn- 
opsis — 

The ever-living, the immortal " Thanatopsis ! " 

Thy native country, thy beloved fatherland. 
For one like unto thee who all revered, departs. 
Has but one Pantheon ! It must be beauti- 
fully grand 
To be enshrined forever in loving, human 
hearts. 




l u^ i i<L "^^ 




NECRODULIE. 



Among the best and noblest thou hast been 

a giant ! 
" Requiescat in pace ! " This tear for 

William Cullen Bryant. 



\ 



NECRODULIE. 

An Acrostic. 
HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

HUSH ! the hea)-t is stilled that rang 
E ver warm for truth and right ; 
Now the voice is dead that sang 
Ro)'ally for life and light — 
Yea, for all that's grand and bright! 



\^ 



Weep! our foremost bard is gone! 
All reluctantly and prone 
D ead to realize him ever ; 
S ong and light and truth ; who never 
W ove but what was most sublime. 
Ode of grief! a mournful chime, 
Ringing o'er the country, tolling; 
T ear-inviting, unconsoling- 





LYRIC TRIFLES. 

Lo! from out his pall and tomb— 
O h ! these very words are gloom — 
Ne'ertheless breaks forth a vision, 
Gr lorious true, a poet's mission. 
F or all ages, ever vernal, 
E ver youthful and in bloom ; 
Life's memorial, God's commission 
Liight and Truth and Song eternal 
O rb and crown his life and name 
With immortal, God-like fame! 



r^ 



THE DEAD RABBI. 



IN MEMORY OF THE LATE LAMENTED REV. DR. MAX 
LILIENTHAL, OF CINCINNATI. 



T 



HE grave is filled and the crowds are 
gone; 

The solemn obsequies are past. 
The Rabbi is dead, and buried, and sleeps, 

Reposing forever and aye at last. 
From early youth till his green old age 

He cared not for quiet, he sought not for 
rest. 




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V 






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THE DEAD RABBI. 

His was the battle for knowledge awd truth ; 
A man of the sturdiest, grandest, and 
best — 

A laborer and sage 
In our time and age. 
His was the struggle for right and light. 
To set the oppressed and bonded free ; 
To teach to his people, advancing the world : 
" Nearer, my God, to Thee, nearer to 
Thee." 




»( 



1! 



As time shall roll on they'll erect him a shaft 

Of bronze or Carrarian marble white. 
With golden letters it will hold inscribed 

His life and death so pure and bright. 
But needed are scarcely the metal or stone — 

The task he achieved shall time defy ; 
For thought is immortal and mind has no end, 

And Love, Hope, and Charity never will die. 
Invisibly kept, 
Are tears sadl}' wept ; 
The ache of the heart and the anguish of souls 

Exist for eternit3% floating on. 
Until humanity's mission is reached 

And earth and time their work have done. 





LYRIC TRIFLES. 



A life thus completed, a labor thus wrought, 
A goal thus achieved which divinely was 
born, 
A day thus closed and an eve thus begun, 
Must have after nightfall again a morn. 
There must be a waking from such a dream ; 

There will be a rising after such sleep. 
Nothing in nature does really die : 

The world shall not mourn forever and 
weep. 

Ah, sorrow no more ! 
It was wiitten of yore: 
" The dust shall return unto mother earth, 
But home the Lord our souls will call." 
The name of the righteous shall ever be 
blessed — 
Then rest in peace, Rabbi Lilienthal. 






,.n^ » rif^ m, ^ m, 



THE SONG OF THE JEWELER. 




87 



THE SONG OF THE JEWELER. 

A BALLAD. 

I'VE been commissioned to make this 
thing— 
A wedding-ring-, a wedding-ring ; 
And while I melt and mould this gold 
My lay is short and quickly told. 

The maid to wear this band so fine — 
She loved me, promised to be mine. 
It is the story old as time, 
Rehearsed in prose and sung in rhyme : 

Since he is rich and I am poor. 
She now forsakes me, perjured sure. 
Into this crucible I'd rhelt 
The pangs I feel, the pangs I felt. 

It is the hardest work, I con, 
I'll ever do, I've ever done; 
The sadder all, that with this ring 
I'd pray, that happiness it bring. 

No matter, though, how hard my fate, 
All scorn and hate, all scorn and hate. 
Within my heart they take their flight 
If she'll this circlet cherish right. 






LYRIC TRIFLES. 




God bless the ring-, the sign sublime! 
My hammer and my anvil chime! 
And " Amen " shall my true love say 
To-morrow on her wedding-day. 



ADIEU, ADIEU! I GAVE THEE UP. 



A 



DIEU, adieu! I gave thee up 

With bleeding heart and quiver- 
ing soul, 
And from a blasted hope this drop — 
A tear, I'm not ashamed of— roll. 
Yes ! thou wast very dear to me ; 
I happy dreamed to be with thee. 
Thy and my fate I but bewail 
That thou should be so fair and frail, 
And that I loved, one more loved never, 
And now must give thee up forever. 




^ 



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\.j A ^ TO THE MEMORY OF A DEPARTED FRIEND. 89 



TO THE MEMORY OF A DEPARTED 
FRIEND. 

WHOEVER was able unraveling life, 
With all its great joy and great 
sorrow, 
With all its ambition, loves, hopes, and strife 

And the cares we borrow? 
When barely begun we end our career 
To "leave love, hope, and ambition here. 




Whoever was able unfathoming death, 

Who comes 'midst tears and heart-aching ; 

Closing dear eyes and quenching loved breath, 
No station forsaking ? 

The rich and the poor, the lowly, the great, 

Are equally meeting the certain fate*. 

'Tis all a blank mystery, all wrapt in night ! 

With only this high consolation : 
Humanity, goodness, love, honor, and right, 

Our immortal creation. 
Like Heaven eternal, like God, know no end ! 
Requiescat in pace ! xwy noble, good friend. 



II 




►E- 



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\ 




I^SS 



SSB 




LYRIC TRIFLES. 



NIL DESPERANDUM. 
I. 

THE poorest thing on earth to life doth 
cling ; 
And I — must 1 despair? 
My heart is quivering, feverish, in each string 
'Tis sore with grief and care. 
To Heaven 1 stare, 
Praying sans hope ; the eye filled with a tear — 
Within the breast a sting — the soul all fear. 

II. 

When I was yet a child, 

Roaming and wild, 
I often dreamt many a dream so bright, 

By day and night. 
But youth has vanished, all dreams are gone, 
Like bubbles that into thin air are blown. 

All that life hath brought 

To manhood wrought 
Is but ceaseless, fruitless toil 

And wild turmoil. 
And this for enough of bread but to reap, 
To feel the hunger that banishes sleep. 



I 




'•'<S^" ^< ^L.' 



:»"^ 



NIL DESPERANDUM, 

Would I were yet a child, 

Roaming wild, 
And dreaming that beautiful vision once more 

That upward bore 
The innocent boy to the spheres of light, 
Never again to wake from that night! 



III. 

And still, the poorest thing to life doth cling ; 

Nor will I yet despair. 
The heart may quiver, feverish, in each string, 

Sore with grief and care. 

To Heaven I stare ! 
And, praying, hope returns ; it dries the tear ; 
The sting has lost its pangs, the soul all fear. 






l a'^ . i m "^ i ^Z^ i^i^r- 



LYRIC TRIFLES. 



A^ 



I THINK OF THEE, I THINK OF 
THEE. 



I 



MIDNIGHT THOUGHTS. 

THINK of Thee, I think of Thee! | 
While shivering midnight decks the 

world. I 

I think of Thee, I think of Thee, ll 

Though in sleep's cloak the earth is furled. | 

Oh ! slumber Thou, sweet dreams be thine. 

While sad, alone, and 'wake I pine. \i 

I think of Thee, I think of Thee ! 

Through storm and rain yon blinks one 
star. 
I think of Thee, I think of Thee: 

Like midnight thus m}^ feelings are. « 

I think of thee : Thou like that spark 
Shed'st light into my bosom dark. 

I think of Thee, I think of Thee, 

He who made darkness, storm, and rain. 

I think of Thee, I think of Thee — 

Brings morning, too, to soothe our pain. 

May He protect us in His might ! % 

I think of Thee. Good-night — good-night. 






■Wi^Mil fl 1 ^ '^ =- 



TO LOVE AND BE LOVED LN RETURN. 93 



TO LOVE AND BE LOVED IN 
RETURN. 

TO love and be loved in return ! 
O Heaven ! what rapture is con- 
tained 
In this one sentiment — the bourne 

Of bliss and blessing. Unrestrained 
By all that is of mortal birth, 
It makes a paradise of earth. 



To love and be loved ! It implies 
Intensest passion, pure and kind ; 

One that ennobles, sanctifies 

The human heart and soul and mind. 

Whom is assigned such destiny, 

Though poor, is rich ; though low, stands 
high. 



i -\V: 



To love and be loved ! To your heart 
Hold pressed the precious gift, and then 

May fortune smile, or vile depart. 
Above this all stand loving men. 

Their faith and hope here and Above 

It is to be loved and to love. 





LYRIC TRIFLES. 




TO LOVE IN VAIN— WHAT AGONY ! 

WHAT agony — to love in vain ! — ■ 
Is not implied by these few words, 
When yearning woe will not restrain 

The harrowed breast in all its cords? 
The feverish blood leaps through the veins, 
As if to madden soul and brains. 

True ! we feel sad to part with friends. 
Yet may we hope to meet again. 

But no such consolation sends 

Love unreturned — a love in vain. 

It does impl}^ the saddest doom, 

A checkered life, an early tomb. 



I 
\ 



vl 



True, true ! we mourn when, severed by 
death. 

Goes home one who to us is dear ; 
But we believe with our last breath 

Of an hereafter's higher sphere. 
The heart, alas! here and Above 
Despairs of when 'tis broke by love. 



:i 1 




( 



SONG. 




SONG. 

FROM THE DRAMA '' GENIUS:' 



'N 



EATH coral, shell, and weed the 
ocean 

One priceless pearl conceals : 
Thus hides my heart a deep emotion, 
The fervent love it feels. 



, On Heaven's vaulted blue, unmeasured, 
One sun holds high control : 
Thus is thine radiant picture treasured 
Supremely in my soul. 

'Tis said, of solar light depriven, 
The gem would surely die: 

So must my love and life be riven 
Were closed to me thine eye. 

Then as the sun, whenever shining, 

Reflects him in the sea, 
Deign thou unto my soul repining 

One look of sympathy. 




w 



AND must I then not love thee? 
Thou art not of my creed ! 
So help the Lord above me, 
I can and will not heed ! 
'Tis vain indeed forever 

Affection pure to part ; 
For naught true" love can sever 
From a beloved heart. 



I climbed the mountain lonely ; 

The solitude above 
With silent tongue asked only : 

"What creed forbids to love?" 
I walked the sea-shore, musing ; 

The surf beneath, indeed, 
Sang evermore, accusing : 

" Love cares not for a creed. " 



Where'er I roamed I met thee ; 

'Tis vain — I'll not forsake. 
For ere I could forget thee 

My heart must surely break. 







\ 



U 



'Tis vain indeed forever 
Affection pure to part; 

For naught true love can sever 
From a beloved heart. 



FOURTH OF JULY, 1861. 

THIS is a day which the Lord has ap- 
pointed. 
Open the chapels, and, kneeling devout, 
Glory to Him who our heroes anointed, 

Strengthening their hearts, brave, noble, 
and stout, 
To rescue the Nation from tyranny 
On Liberty's birthday, the Fourth of July. 

God of our fathers ! Who ever hast guarded, 
In battle and council, America's fate, 

Hear, we invoke Thee ! restore the departed 
Peace, love, and freedom to every State. 

May proudly the eagle soar high to the sky 

On Liberty's birthday, each Fourth of July. 



« 






OTHER POEMS. 






I 





^%^'^J" i ^fX " ^ri ! 



!' 







U 



^^ 



YAH, YAH ! 



A TEUTONIC SKETCH. 



A PICTURESQUE village on the banks of 
the Rhine, 
With crimson-hued oak and the well-loaded 

vine ; 
A cottage all decked in moss, ivy, and green. 
Though crumbling, yet cheerful and cozy 

and clean, 
Is the home of a silver-haired widow — " Yah, 

yah," 
But her only son 's in America ! 





9 ^L ■ ^■^ ^^* 



I02 



OTHER POEMS. 




In a snowy-white cap and an old-fashioned 
gown 
She sits in the huge old family chair ; 
Her face it is wrinkled, her form is bent down, 
And her fine Roman nose holds a spec- 
tacle pair. 
'Tis twilight ; she's knitting, and oft sighs, 

*'Yah, yah, 
How ray heart yearns for him in America ! 



" He writes of that fair and beautiful land, 
And of things we old folks can't understand. 
That all there are equal, and all there are 

free. 
And labor is honored in the land o'er the 

sea." 
With cracked and with tremulous voice she 

adds, " Yah, 
God prosper and bless America ! " 



As mesh upon mesh her worsted-work grows 
\ ' The embers die out in the quaint rustic 

grate ; 
She drowsily nods and sinks in repose, 

But sudden is roused by the creaky- 
hinged gate. 






W'^ ■ ■<. ■^ ^1^^ 



YAH, YAH! 1 03 

Knocks the postman. A letter! She cries 

out: " Yah, 
It comes from my boy in America!" 

She would not exchange it for jewel or 

charm. 
With fumbling finger and trembling arm, 
And while with emotion beats quicker her 

heart, 
She opens the missive, and reads, with a start. 
And a tear, and a smile, loud rejoicing — 

" Yah, yah, 
He's well, he's well in America!" 

"He's coming!" "I'm here!" cries a voice. 

By the sound 
She knows him — she knows him — and, 

speechless .with joy, 
Her arms his weather-bronzed neck clasp 

around. 
And her head drops reclining on the breast 

of her boy. 
But then she recovers, and sobs out, " Yah, 

yah. 
My child, oh! my son from America!" 



: 3« 







|V^HM«r4|^lM^^«^;^i- 







OTHER POEMS. 



II 



" And do you know my Fritz has come — 
Gretchen, his sweetheart, to take to his 

home ? 
Valley and mountain, ocean and State, 
Never true loving hearts separate ! 
And when his young ' Frau ' * he takes over 

the sea, 
Their wrinkled old mother — they'll never 

leave me ; 
They beg and entreat incessant : ' Yah, yah,' 
I must with them go to America. 



W 



" Seventy years— aye, seventy years — 

With tears and with smiles, with hopes and 

with fears, 
With joys and with sorrows, have come and 

have gone : 
Happily married, left widowed alone ; 
Yon in God's-acre sleep husband and child, 
Father and mother ! It makes me quite wild 
To place the ocean between us — ' Yah, yah,' 
And die and be buried in America. 



w 




\l 



l ^v ■ ^-■' 



VAI/, YAH! 

" To leave my cottage, my fiowers and vines, 
And every dear object my bosom enshrines ; 
Old neighbors and friends, with daughters 

and sons — 
* Grossmutter ' * all call me the little ones ; 
My birds and my chickens, and Tabby, the 

cat — 
Farewell to say now to this and to that. 
Oh ! how my poor heart will ache, ' Yah, 

yah,' 

To part with them now for America ! 




\\ 



\\ 



•' But there will be all the loved ones of mine, 
And there the sun as here will shine ; 
And something better there, too, will be : 
A blessed country where all are free! 
Nor do I doubt, nor do 1 fear, 
That over the ocean, God, too, is near. 
All days of my life I trusted Him. ' Yah, 
He'll never forsake me in America ! 



" So gladly I say, then. His will be done ! 
y \ ' Yah,' 1 will go with you, my daughter and 

son. 




| u^ i »^ uri^ i^^ggi- 



"^nii 'gini 



1 06 



OTHER POEMS. 



Get ready, get married ; be blessed ! And 

you know 
We'll be there the sooner, the sooner we 

go. 
I fancy already — I talk like the old — 
Some darling wee babe, eh ? on my knees I 

may hold ; 
Then I will be ready to die — 'Yah, yah, 

yah '— 
To sleep my last sleep in America. 




III. 



" Five years it is since I've sailed over the 

brine, 
Exchanging the Mississippi in place of the 

Rhine. 
Else nothing has altered — the ivy and green 
Deck cosy my cottage, as yonder has been. 
With more than childlike affection and grace 
Was modeled my New by my Old World 

place. 
And neighbors and friends I have found — 

' Yah, yah ' — 
Loving and kind, too, in America ! 




^' 



^1 



} 




VA//, YAH! 



107 



" Still something has changed : more weak and 

frail 
My body is growing. I visibly fail 
In health and strength, in speech and song: 
But spite of all I feel again young, 
In children's children, 3^outh and life. 
My noble son and his darling wife. 
Their dark-faced boy and fair-haired girl — 

'Yah,' 
It seems like a dream in America ! 



" With never a sorrow, with never a care. 
Most blessed of mothers — enough and to spare, 
For wants and for charity yields the good farm. 
All hearts here are tender — so strong every 

arm ! 
Dependent alone on each other for love, 
And goodness and mercy on Him who's 

Above. 
Around me is blooming the sunny South — 

' Yah,' 
My old age is blessed in America ! 

" The mocking-bird warbles so cheer'ly his 

tune ; 
Magnolia and roses perfume the sweet June; 



^' 



11 




I 'i 



OTHER POEMS. 




Around me reigns peace serenely and mild, 
While rocking to sleep the darling, dear child. 
My thoughts, though, will wander, my tears 

freely flow, 
As over the ocean to the Rhineland they go. 
I weep for my dear ones there buried — ' Yah, 

yah,' 
Our dead friends abroad live in America. 



\ 



V 



" But still I am thankful that I have been 

spared 
To witness such joy, and such happiness reared. 
My heart is so full, I must fall on my knees : 
I thank Thee, O Lord, Who my innermost 

sees. 
For, all Thy great mercy ! Soon wilt Thou, 

I know. 
Permit me to see Thee — I'm ready to go! 
But with my last breath I shall breathe it: 

' Yah, yah,' 
God bless thee and prosper, America! 



"And when they shall lay me away in my 

grave. 
Let the Father of Rivers my resting-place 

lave. 




l U^ IB ^ 1 ^'^ ^t. 



■~!^^im ^j^ u i ';i^fi i 



> 




BANKRUPT. 

Where life was so tranquil, there cannot be 

room 
For aught but for hope, love, and faith in 

the tomb. 

Rose and magnolia plant over it bright ; 
On modest memorial this epitaph write : 
' Here rests a true woman from Germany, 

" Yah," 
Who lived and died blessing America ! ' " 



BANKRUPT. 

A PICTURE OF THE TIMES. 

OUT of the thousands but few peruse ' 
One petit item, scarce more than a line. 
Next editorial or telegraph news ; 

Typed — it is almost for reading too fine — 
Making report of some business encumber'd, 
Such as appear now uncounted, unnumber'd. 



" Bankrupt " it heralds a mercantile firm 
Somewhere up in a country town. 

Well, who does care if another must squirm? 
Old is the story of life up and down ; 





no 



OTHER POEMS. 




But while it seems, ah ! one more bursted 

bubble, 
Fathom who can, its heartache and trouble. 

Suffering- and tears of the man who has failed, 
One already advanced in years — 

He who never from hardships has quailed, 
Never knew selfishness, cringing, or fears. 

Weary long years he has labored and striven, 

Building the fortune a moment has riven. 



' 



is 



Highly respected and honored his fame, 

Bond made his word with all whom he 
dealt ; 

Unquestioned credit attached to his name ; 
Wealthy and poor a friend in him felt. 

Wife and children his home happy render — 

Loving, beloved, kind, generous, and tender. 

Bankrupt now, and helpless involved ! 

Caused by the unforeseen crisis ; betrayed 
Sadly by those whom he trusted; resolved — 

Honestly facing his doom undismayed — 
All that he owns in this world, to his lend- 
ers 
Scrupulously and fully surrenders. 




BANKRUPT. 







Bankrupt ! Now do you know what it is, 
Blighting one of his sensitive sort? — 

One who never knew want such as this. 
One to whom loved ones look up for support; 

Penniless, houseless, friendless, despairing. 

Hopelessly into the dark future staring. 

Look at the contrast ! .Affluence and ease 
Changed into poverty, actual need — 

Barely enough common wants to appease. 
Pride is alone, and that shame, indeed. 

Left him, that natural shrinking feeling 

Which from the world his woe is concealing. 

Winter approaches, and there is no fuel ; 

Hunger is gnawing, and there is no bread ; 
Children are naked — O God! 'tis too cruel: 

An invalid wife confined to her bed. 
Hark ! How he shrieks ! insane ! How he 



cowers 



" Spare them, O Lord ! Upon me fall Thy 
powers ! " 

Thus is struck down the cultured, refined, 

By a commercial tidal wave. 
Easy the end can be told or defined : 

Broken, a heart fills a newly-made grave. 



^'^^g^^^g^j^^saga^ 




h 





'^fmcF 




OTHER POEMS. 



Widow and orphans are weeping and wail- 
ing— 
Father of Mercy, oh ! be Thou not faihng. 



SUNSET ON MOUNT DAVIDSON.* 

1865. 

MOUNTAIN-CONE, upon thy summit, 
where the North wind icy blows, 
In the dying evening twilight, dying like a 

full-blown rose, 
Lingers one beholding wonders more sub- 
lime eyes never saw : 
Steep the hillsides, deep the valleys — landscape 
picture without flaw. 

Miles above the ocean-level, isolated from the* 
world. 

Sterile, only heather growing, and the sage- 
brush thickly curled — 

Rarefied, the air can barely breath supply — 

^ still here attests 

Every knoll that human labor ne'er is daunted, 
never rests. 



Virginia City and Gold Hill, Nev., lie at the foot of Mt. Davidson 



\S 



w 








SUNSET ON MOUNT DA VIDSON. 



One decade ere this the Indian roamed alone 

here, digging root ; 
Now see palaces of granite dot the country 

black with soot ; 
Instead of wigwam and of camp-fire rolls the 

flame of coal and pines 
From the mouth of steam- machinery through 

the densely peopled mines. 




f 



As if by a dream created, or as by some 
magic spell. 

Roads and houses, hamlets, cities, gird the 
hill and grace the dell. 

High up into the Sierra, who the wond'rous 
sight beholds, 

Far away to Utah's desert, where the Salt- 
Lake growls and scolds : 

Yes, as high as sight will carry, and as low 

as travel sound. 
Pick and axe have shaft and tunnel hewn into 

the rock and ground ; 
For since Nature, always loving, clothed the 

surface all in dearth. 
She has planted richest treasures in the 

bowels of the earth. 



•,i, 



I 





l u-^ l u^L, * ^ \ ^ i 




U4 



OTHER POEMS. 



Deep below, the virgin-metal joyous weds 

with Industry — 
Thus is close the far off Northland joined to 

Civilization nigh. 
People leave their homes and country, flock 

to places waste and sere — 
They are coming, coming, coming, spite of 

hardship, risk, and fear ; 

Coming like a new migration, traveling on 

the wings of steam — 
A reality which shortly seemed but like a 

maniac's scheme ; 
Telegraph and locomotive, electric wire and 

iron track. 
Modern knights, jumped on the giant, on 

old Rocky Mountain's back. 

Every day brings new processions ; thus they 

pour in file by file ; 
They find room, find peace and plenty, find 

a home. Perhaps you smile ; 
But the watchword of the Nations, worthy 

of the present day. 
Liberty's parole is : ''^Ubi bene ibi patria / " * 



* Wherever I fare well, there is my home 





|LI^ '"^L ■■^ 




TICONDEROGA CENTENNIAL 



TICONDEROGA CENTENNIAL. 

1775 — MAY 10 — 1875. 

* 

THERE stands many a castle-ruin in other 
far-off climes. 
The traveler looks in wonder, reminded of 

bygone times — 
Reminded of horror and terror of bonds, and 

fetters and slaves, 
,Of untold tyrant-oppression and despots' un- 
known graves. 

How different sounds the story, like song's 

undying strain, 
From the Ruins of Ticonderoga, on beautiful 

Lake Champlain ! 
The very place is holy, and sanctified each 

mound ; 
A monument is each wall-stone, on consecrated 

ground. 

It speaks of a Nation rising and hewing in 
twain its yoke. 

Wielding a giant's weapon with death-defy- 
ing stroke. 




■ % 

ri6 THE/? POEMS. r^u 

It speaks of Freedom's natal, proclaiming in g 

its throe ^| 

, The birth of the Republic one hundred years | 

i ago- . f 

i. t 

" /;/ the name of the Great Jehovah ! " was \ 

1/ made the stern demand, I 

% • ■ 

i ' '■^ And the Continental Congress!'' by Ethan ^ 

Allen's band. ij;' 

It opened to the summons, the foreigner moved 

out, f- 

While freemen took possession with glorious 

Yankee shout. 

Immortal be the story, like song's undying | 

,^^ stram — W 

!( The Ruins of Ticonderoga, on beautiful Lake | 

I Champlain. 

() The place be ever holy, and sanctified each 
i| mound ; 

I A monument each wall- stone, on consecrated 
L ground. 



F? 




,Tl^ 



I — I. 



SERIOUS MISTAKE. 

FOR pencil or chisel it would be a 
scene, 
Could artist or sculptor but present have 

been — 
A tableau that would have established their 

fame, 
To paint or to model the ancient dame. 

Behold her there sitting- in grandfather's 

chair, 
Wrinkled and withered, in silver-bleached 

hair, 
The spectacles her well-pointed nose squeeze. 
The family Bible lies on her knees. 



i And there she reads of the first man's birth, I 

'ii How God creates Adam from dust of the ^J 

earth. i^ 

But hold ! here she stops ; the page is all 
1 done : 

|_ Over she turns, but two leaves instead one. 



>^ 



9 



A 




-i'1»^ ^^— i "^ra i 




OTHER POEMS. 



I 



Serene she continues, and never does mark 
This turning has gone in old Noah's new 

Ark. 
And thus she proceeds, with voice cracked 

and thin : 
" He covered w^ith pitch both outside and 

in!" 

Imagine who can her face, mouth, and eyes ! 
If lightning had struck her from Heaven's 

blue skies, 
Bewildered, astonished she could not be 

more. 
One jump, and erect she stands straight on 

the floor. 



And then she exclaims: "I'm three-score and 

one, 
But never did dream how frail we were 

done. 
La, mercy ! man made out of dust of the 

ditch, 
And ' kivered ' all inside and outside with 

pitch ! " 








WASHINGTON'S JUDGMENT. I 1 9 

WASHINGTON'S JUDGMENT. 

A VISION. [1861.] 

YON, where the Potomac winds its course 
round Vernon's holy height, 
I've seen the spirit of Washington rise in 
my dream at night ; 
The hero blest, 
Who stood the test 
Of trying time, no more can rest ; 
Aroused by dreadful battle-cry with which 

his children rave — 
The sons unworthy of their sires — it woke 
him from his grave. 

The Continental chief, he stands, yon on the 

topmost hill ; 
His right hand holds the sword high raised, 
the tears of sorrow fill 

His eyes ; thus may 
He've looked that day 
When foes held o'er the country sway ; 
When he did life and honor pledge to his 

own native land, 
The Father of his country, 'midst that noble, 
stalwart band — 







I20 



OTHER POEMS. 




Aye, this, his own, his native land, for which 

he fought and bled. 
The pride and glory of our globe e'er since 
his arm it led ; 

The hallowed sod 
With brother's blood 
Is red, and into dust is trod. 
That glorious banner 'neath which he, as if 

by Heaven's power. 
Victoriously the Delaware crossed, in that 
self-same hour. 



America's Constitution ! — this, our modern 

Bible, torn, 
This sacred patrimony decked with hatred, 
guilt, and scorn ; 

The verdant tree 
Of Liberty, 
Beneath whose shadow all were free, 
Leaf-stripped, and by the dreadful storm 

which from the Southward blows, 
Columbia's hero no longer more finds in his 
tomb repose. 



Yon, where the Potomac winds its course 
round Vernon's holy height, 



^ 





»-^ ■ <£. ••^ ■ ^^■^ 



WASHINGTON'S JUDGMENT. 

I've seen the spirit of Washington rise in 
my dreams at night : 
The hero brave 
From out his grave, 
By his own sons dishonored, gave 
His judgment, awful and serene, like ancient 

prophecy : 
That odious, hated, and accursed all traitors 
surely be. 



I 



\ 

[ 

I 

w 



" Fugitives and vagabonds ! like Cain's shall 

be their dooms ; 
Br^.nded and marked like him, free soil 
shall ne'er contain their tombs ; 
A by-word and 
Example stand 
For coming eras in every land ; 
Their country's woe, their children's curse, 

and their ancestors' shame, 
Thus shall America's history preserve hence- 
forth their name." 



* 



Thus cried aloud George Washington. The 

morning dawned afar ; 
Shrill sounded fife and drum, and all the 

circumstance of war, 
15 



M 







122 



OTHER POEMS. 



I, 'midst the roar, 
Saw Heavenward soar 
An eagle who a rattlesnake bore: 
And then awoke ; but could not help — 

I thought this dream must be 
A vision which rebellion judged, like an- 
cient prophecy. 



M 



THE WHITEWASH-BRUSH. 

THE whitewash-brush, the whitewash- 
brush, 
Is higher than Allah, greater than ''Josh"; 
In letters and science, in commerce and art, 
It plays its wondrous, powerful part ; 
Aye ! all its haughty compeers are bosh 
Compared to the mighty whitewash-brush. 



Commanded by influence or gold, 

It is the protector of young and old. 

Every department of modern life 

Reeking with wickedness and strife. 

Society, politics, religion — hush ! 

They are all safe 'neath the whitewash- brush. 



I 




| U^ "»^ 




THE WHITEWASH-BRUSH. 



Scandal and gossip, the signs of our time, 
Petty sin and unheard-of crime, 
Judge and president, priest and flock, 
May boldly at public opinion mock ; 
Whatever the peril, let them rush 
And hide in the shade of the whitewash- 
brush. 

With a few quick strokes it covers shames, 

Paints all fairly the blackest of names ; 

Investigation it renders short 

With a friendly committee's swift report ; \ ^ 

And behold, instead of the sinner's crush, 

A coat laid on by the whitewash-brush ! 



' 



All other emblems, then, let us lay down — 

The cross and the sword, the mitre and ' ' 

crown ; 
Nor learning, nor justice, nor faith should 

miss 
To take for their standard a sign like this, 
f Without a scruple, without a blush : 

f The gilded sign of a whitewash-brush ! 

'9 





f 



^ u^ nm L ■'v. ^>.' 



OTHER POEMS. 



NEIR TOMID.* 

A HEBREW LEGEND FROM THE CHRONICLES OF THE 
CITY OF WORMS. 

OLD Worms, the Teuton's stronghold, 
close buckled to the Rhine, 
Shows yet the massive synagogue with its 

time-hallowed shrine ; 
There burn two lamps for ever, the chronicle 

does state — 
A most mysterious legend, which they still 
perpetuate. 



i'^ 



And thus* is told the story : It chanced in 

times of yore, 
When history its gloomiest fruit of blood 

and carnage bore ; 
The Jews were then the objects of hatred 

and disdain, 
Denounced by hypocritic priests, by blinded 

people slain. 

* Lamps burned constantly in memory of a beloved dead. 





:^g^s;^^^3^ 





| u^ mm^ *k ^ l^"- 



'JVHI/i TOMID. 

Fanatics, well supported with superstition's aid, 
Against Worms' congregation raised a cruel, 

dangerous raid. 
" The public wells are poisoned," report first 

whispers shy ; 
" The public wells are poisoned ! " soon goes 

forth the dreadful cry. 

" They who of old our Saviour with malice 
crucified 

Now caused the pestilence by which so 
many Christians died ; 

Their Rabbins have been loitering suspi- 
ciously around, 

And in their cursed Ghetto are all yet well, 
and sound." 



The streets are filled with people e'er ready 
for a row. 

" Hepp, hepp ! " * they cry ; and " Kill the 
\ \ Jews ; they are damned anyhow ! " 

Into the threatened quarter the raging 
masses sped ; 

The frightened outcasts quick into the syna- 
gogue they fled. 



'' 
'' 





/■ 
OTHER POEMS. , ■, 

I 

Upon their knees are lying men, women, 

young and old, 

All weeping-, wrapt into their shrouds, most . 

awful to behold ; ^ 
They're solemnly reciting their dismal, dying 

chants, 'i 

While for their blood the riot fierce with- ;| 

out loud cries and pants : | 

'I 

" The cabalists, the criminals, we of your f 

hands require, J 

Doomed in the holy Roman realm to death 1 

upon the pyre! \| 

If you withhold our bidding, or to resist ,],' 

connive, 
We'll burn forthwith the Ghetto — aye, we'll 

roast you all alive!" I 

The elders and the people for counsel quick j 

combine, % 
Their hoary teachers praying on before the 

holy shrine. | 

Loud sounds their " Sh'ma Israel " * into w 

each ear and heart ; \ 

Crowbar and axe outside attempt the door i 

to break or part. ;| 

* The leading Hebrew prayer. 



'A NEIR TOMID. 127 

^ " These walls are strong — a fortress in this 

'< our time of need ; 

Our wives and children we'll defend, and, 

if God hath decreed, 
We'll die here with our teachers, like heroes 
- and like men : 
^ Do like the Maccabeans — arm ! arm for re- 

\ sistance then ! " 

All rush now to the portals with death- 
defying will. 

But hark ! outside the noise subsides ; it 
suddenly grows still ; 

The port-bolts give, and by themselves the 

! doors are open cast. 

. Hence flies the startled, boisterous mob ; all 

V danger, sure, is past. 

The vestibule is lighted, and unconsumed, 
^; like spells, 

\ The faggots burn, as once the bush of which 

the Bible tells ; 
And where the flames lick topmost the pyres 

in purple sheen. 
Two aged men are standing firm, by all the 
people seen. 



V:/ 



^ ^ 





w 



| u^ i ^^L ' "*^. ' ^^-' -"^^ly'^a ' 



OTHER POEMS. 




They had come, none knew whither, and 

loudly did exclaim 
Unto the furious Christians : " Stay ! we are 

alone to blame ! ■^ 

Shed not the blood that's innocent ; on us 

may fall your ire ! " 
Forthwith the stack is kindled ; they are 

doomed unto the fire. 

But lo ! the flame ne'er singes upon their 

heads a hair ; I" 

Erect they stand, with upraised hands : their ^| 

persecutors stare 
In frenzied consternation unto the awful 

sight ; 
And terror smites fanatics wild, who take, 

confused, to flight. 

The Israelites, too, see there the miracle 

declared 
By which the hour of danger thus has 

passed and they are spared ; 
They still cry: " Sh'ma Israel!" Behold, 

the embers feared 
Die out at once, and suddenly the two men 

disappeared. 




!/4 



' 




NEIR TOMID. 



They vanished, none knew whither ; but 
from that day till now 

Before the tabernacle were, as a most sa- 
cred vow, 

By day and night kept burning — thus is 
each sexton bid — 

Two lamps, denominated well the martyrs' 
" Neir Tomid ! " 



Old Worms, the Teuton's stronghold, close 
buckled to the Rhine, 

Shows yet the massive synagogue with its 
time-hallowed shrine ; 

And with its two lamps burning, the chroni- 
cle does state — 

This most mysterious legend, which they 
still perpetuate. 



f^i 











FEBRILE FRENZIES. 



FANTASIA. 
I. 

I TOSS abed in fever craze, 
Clam perspiration decks my face ; 
And ugly visions rise and strain 
My burning, throbbing, aching brain. 

Nor sleep nor wake, as one who dies. 
Wide glaring, open stand my eyes; 
And soon in cataleptic throes 
Methinks are fading hopes and woes. 

Dim pass away my thoughts and songs, 
Whate'er the heart loves, fears, and longs ; 
And, like a fleeting shadow stray. 
Life ebbs oblivious soon away. 

The people come, the people go ; 

Some turn me over to and fro; 

My body in a coffin crowd, 

Clean washed, and clothed in linen shroud. 



^ 



^ 




U^ 11 ^ *"^ ^^'' 



A 



FEBRILE FRENZIES. 




By usage old, which yet prevails, 

Six unplaned boards, box-shaped with nails, 

Is every Hebrew's final share, 

For beggar as for millionaire. 



Though many an eye, behold, is wet; 
Though all feel sorry, still they fret 
Until the hearse starts off with me 
Unto the Jewish cemet'ry. 

But ere with fresh, damp earth all ends. 
The last sad rites an old man tends ; 
He lifts the lid, and on his knees 
Performs most curious cer'monies. 

According to some ancient code. 
Half-solemn and half-cruel mode. 
With fragments of a broken cup 
The eyes and mouth he covers up. 

An earth -filled pillow 'neath the head, 
A taleth * 'round the neck that's dead — ■ 
'Tis all according to the form 
Of mystic, cabalistic norm ; 



I 



* The sacred garb used by the orthodox as] cover for head and shoul- 
ders during prayer. 



As in the " Book of Life " 'tis writ — 
Named " Book of Death " were better fit. 
The ropes are placed, the box let down 
Into the yawning- grave, afrown. 

Now men and shovels fill the tomb 
With clay and maggots, night and gloom. 
The grubs, I fear, will bring to naught 
The resurrection we are taught. 

And curious still, it seemed withal 
My soul did hover o'er the pall. 
It would abide on earth and stay 
Until the corpse is laid away. 



What next became of it, we'll trust 
The future may reveal, and must, 
Until its abode, bad or well, 
Is fixed for paradise or hell. 

But, after all, I'm glad to say 

I died but in my fever. Ay, 

These dreams and rhymes I gladly give 

A little longer yet to live. 











FEBRILE FRENZIES. 



II. 



Once more the fever made me wander ; 

I dreamed another, loftier sight : 
My soul went to the Hfe that's yonder, 

Unto the Heavenly portals bright. 
Yet there, with quick perceptive vision, 
I noticed a most strange provision : 

Some side-doors stood ajar ; these portals 
Were sally-points from whence approach 

Long-bearded saints, once living mortals, 
Who on my trembling soul encroach ; 

And every holy, hoary father 

His neighbor crowds and tries to bother. 

And when I made the exclamation : 

"Who opes the main port unto me?" 

You should have seen their consternation ! 
Each one contends that it was he. 

If I would own their faith and power. 

My answer made them start and cower : 

" My faith is God— God, One, Eternal ! " 

And as the words I uttered, lo ! 

The Heavens opened ; glory vernal — 

No mortal comprehends it so — 





134 



OTHER POEMS. 




Burst on my vivified conception, 

A disenthralled soul's first reception. 

A seraph came, and he conducted 

Me to the foot of God's High Throne. 

By him I was forthwith instructed 

To kneel contrite, demure, and prone. 

My judgment will, as all announce. 

The Heavenly Father now pronounce. 

A voice, awful, sublime, and stately. 

Spake forth these words — they sound 
like songs — 

" My son ! on earth thou suffered greatly. 
Thou wast a poet — all thy wrongs. 

Though they were mau}^, are forgiven ; 

Thou wast an author — enter Heaven ! " 



The angel my companion, nearing, 
A password whispered in my ears. 

Through endless spaces we are steering — 
For wings had grown me unawares — 

He led me thus to that collection 

Inscribed: "The Poet's celestial section." 

And here he left me as I entered. 

My goodness, what a sight was there ! — 







-^^ U^ IW <C ^■^ > ^^ 



^r\ 



FEBRILE FRENZIES. 



Soft, rosy light, in which was centered 

Capacious, but a crowded sphere. 
Watch held one o'er the golden chapter — 
He seemed less poet than adapter. 

"What hast thou written?" he demanded; 

" The Febrile Frenzies ! " I replied. 
"Read!" As the manuscript I handed 

It quickly at my head was shied. 
He pointed at his stack of writing, 
From which peered amours, crime, and fight- 
ing. 

Were thus, then, all my ideals ending 
Of song immortal in spirit-lands? 

As, searching, I my head was bending. 
In agony I wrung my hands! 

Such trash in front ! away back hidden 

The masters, as if here unbidden. 

Back to the throne of God I fluttered ; 

Insane I stared and loudly cried : 
"From Heaven banish me!" — then muttered, 

" Such a state Above as I descried. 
I will be damned, in hell be roasted ! " — 
And then awoke, all wet, exhausted. 




" 




OTHER POEMS. 



III. 




I had ray wish — it makes me cower — 
In Hades I was chained to brood 

'Midst fire of the wildest power, 

With flames for garments, coals for food. 

But still kept up rebellious pondering. 

Nor murmured, craven, with complaint ; 

Ne'er minding the caloric thundering, 
I bore all patient like a saint. 

Had only not so noisy clamored 

Vile politicians, priests, and kings. 

As they were scorched, and pinched, and 
hammered, 
Till with their howls inferno rings. 



Ah ! in the pool of fire eternal 

I noticed baking heads and hands. 

To cinders changed all pomp external. 
Of bank and store, of seas and lands. 



'\ Oh, what a multitude of errors! 

I What tigers, once disguised as lambs ! 

,1 The pious, trusted, now in terrors ; 

Aflame pretence, conceit, and shams. 




\l 



\l 



FEBRILE FRENZIES. 

But once a week, comes Friday even 

Here, too, reigns quiet, with fare of fish; 

And unto every sinner given 

Is then the granting of one wish. 

Such lesson find in the Agadah, 

Of high Tahnudic lore and fame ; 

Yea, Sabbath-pudding,* a panada 

Comes to each suff'rer all the same. 

Thus, red-hot, time was quickly flying. 

Of wings deprived, I had to roast. 
My wrath calcined ; up went defying, 

In fire, all anger, pride, and boast. 




Wheft Friday came around, as usual 
My old friend seraph neared, and he 

This time met not with a refusal 
In offering kindness unto me. 



On earth I had left dearest kindred, 

Who must have learned that I was dead. 

Oh ! that I were no longer hinder'd 

To soothe their hearts, which must have 
bled. 





I ^^ ^LJ-- 



a^ ^ lli •^ 1 1 M i^ ri : 



" 

'! 
«! 



OTHER POEMS. 

I would for once ask the permission 
Returning to yon mundane sphere ; 

Could such be done on the decision 
That I might wing myself from here 

Therefore I asked if he objected 

His pinions for a while to spare ? 

When instantly I too detected 

They grew upon my shoulders bare. 




And quick I flew. It needed flying 
In my old German fatherland. 

An angel would be law- defying, 
Were not a passport in his hand. 



" 



' 



The Lord Himself they would imprison 
If He committed such offence. 

So, turning upwards, I had risen 

And reached my old home-residence. 



Hark ! Midnight ! every one is sleeping, 
Except my sorrowing people, who 

Their pillows drench with bitter weeping, 
As only parents can and do. 




| U^ W ^L '* *< « ^^ ' *' 



-■~^ ^J *— 'ii^'** 




FEBRILE FRENZIES. 

Then slowly, softly I fanned slumber 
Upon their tear-sore, weary eyes. 

Asleep their heart-aches, cruel, somber, 
To soothed consoling prayers rise. 

Low-bending, their beloved features, 

I saw them, as in years ago. 
Time, these adored and dear creatures 

Had kindl}'' dealt with, spite their woe. 

And now, in accents mild and tender, 
I whispered in their ears this strain : 

" Dust all, we unto dust surrender, 
But by God's mercy meet again ! " 




Alas ! I meanwhile thought in terror 
Of my confounded, cruel fate ; 

Of retribution, sin, and error. 
I rose again, for it grew late. 

Poor seraph ! I indeed feel sorry ! 

Thou wilt not soon behold me more 
Without, thy wings wilt have to worr};- 

Below in waiting, sad and sore. 



1' 






ss: 



Sr9BS 





-■~'^ ~lJlf » "^ri » 



140 



OTHER POEMS. 



Too far on high I rose ; already 

Had sun and •moon and comets scored. 

When wide I 'woke, was calm and steady, 
And fully, God be thanked, restored ! 




And now that I can calmly ponder. 
May not our whole theology. 

Our speculations on the Yonder, 
Such dreams of fever- frenzy be? 



Lord ! grant that when we wake hereafter, 
We fully be restored and well ; 

That we may mix our tears and laughter 
On our conceits of Heaven and Hell. 



% 





' 



THE GERMAN VOLUNTEER, (1862 



AMONG the maimed and slaiig-htered 
111 the field of fierce contest, 
One of the dying- soldiers — 

Shot through and through his breast — 
Supported by his musket, he 

Convulsively did rise ; 
Death rattled in his throat, and loud 
Yet tremulous he cries : 



« 



" I came across the ocean. 

At home I've been a slave. 
I fought and die for liberty, 

And find a freeman's grave ! 
And if I had ten thousand lives 

I'd sacrifice them all 
Ere I would see the Stars and Stripes 

A prey to traitors fall. 

** Adieu, my wife and children 
Whom I abroad have left ! 

The God of babes and widows 
Protect you, now bereft ! 



siSBSEsa^sssa 



\i 






^u^ t ^L *"^ ^^ ' ^ 



OTHER POEMS, 



And when hereafter peace returns, 

Columbia, ne'er forget 
That many a sod beneath thy feet 

With foreign blood is wet. 




" May Heaven guide this struggle, 
And keep the country free — 

On earth the only refuge 
\S For life and liberty. 

The Union one forever ! — 'gain 
On high the eagle soar ! " 

Thus shouts the German volunteer, 
And falls and is no more. 



He saw not, knew not, 'round him 
Did silently gather then, 

In deep and sad emotion, 
General, staff, and men. 

They bore him on their muskets thence- 
Brave soldier's envied bier — 

And buried him on the battle-field 
; With many a sigh and tear. 




^ v^ w^ L ' *< 



A COURT SCENE 



A COURT SCENE. 

{FROM AN ACTUAL OCCURRENCE.) 




M 



AY so it please 3^our honor, my 
own case I would plead. 
Assign me no attorney : I have no lawyers 
need. 



And, gentlemen of the jury, my words may 

be uncouth, 
I'll tell the truth ! — I've sworn — and nothing: 

but the truth : 

I've killed the man — I own it; my weapon 

there you see ; 
And when you've heard my story you may 

do as you please with me. 




Low creature they call me ; I know it, my 

name is not of the best ; 
But still I am a woman, with feelings and 

rights of the rest. 



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OTHER POEMS. 



My eyes and features reveal it, as true as 

God stamped Cain's ; 
Indian blood and passion run hotly through 

my veins. 

You know my husband left me — it was before 

I fell. 
Abandoned, with hung-r}^ children, what others 

would do, you tell. 

The night when this deed I committed, my 

youngest one lay sick 
With burning, raging fever ; her breath came 

hot and thick. 

There stands the doctor who told me with 

rest and nursing she'd live ; 
A mother, I trusted fondly in his restorative. 

When outside, with boisterous clamor, crazy 

with drink and lust, 
At midnight the man insisted that enter my 

house he must. 

With tears I begged, I implored him not to 

disturb our peace, 
But to the purpose only to make his rage 

increase. 




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1 
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A COURT SCENE. 




He swore and raved ; he clamored and 
threatened — then perfectly wild — 

If the door I'd not quickly open he'd kill 
me and the child. 



And then he fell in his fury to batter down 

the lock ; 
I cannot tell now was it with hammer oi 

a rock. 

I could not bear it longer ; with none to help 

me near, 
Frantic, grasped my weapon, and its report 

I hear. 



What happened next I know not, but see, the 

man is dead ; 
It fits my pistol's barrel, from out his heart 

the lead. 



>' 



If any of my sisters condemn my life of 

shame, 
With Christian indignation a wicked woman 

blame, 





OTHER POEMS. 

She throw the first stone upon me ; but I do 

not refrain 
To vow, the outrage repeated, that I would 

shoot again ! 

Such, gentlemen, is my story ! My life is. in 

your hand ; 
Bring in your verdict justly, as law and right 

demand. 




I f 



But judge me as a mother ; if I have acted 

wild — 
Ah ! I see tears here flowing — I did protect 

my child ! 

You will not leave the court-room^ — you have 

made up your mind ? 
" Not guilty," says the foreman ; you all this 

verdict find ? 



I'm free? may go? God bless you! And 

now at once for home; 
My heart yearns for my baby. Come, doctor, 

quickly come ! 




REMORSE. 



REMORSE. 




f 



THE dreary night drags slowly by — 
Will it be never morning ? 
Like mockery or scorning 
Has hovered 'round, now far, now nigh, 
The sleep I covet ; but the eye 
Is aching, painful burning. 

There was a time I, too, enjoyed 
The balm of peaceful slumber — 
Now all is dark and sombre ; 

For since I wilfully destroyed 

My better self, by sin decoyed, 
My woes are without number. 

Look over there — on )^onder wall, 

Where night-lamp rays are crawling, 
A sight which is appalling. 
The words stick in my throat — I'd call — • 
O Heaven ! is there no grace at all 
For one who has been falling? 

My feverish hands run through my hair. 
That foul deed's apparition. 
In sitting, stark position. 




OTHER POEMS. 



Involuntar'Iy from my lair 
It draws me ; like insane I stare, 
And there behold perdition. 

Curst and condemned! — I hear it coarse. 

My pulse grows thin and thinner. 

Ah ! Satan has been winner. 
Curst and condemned! — a voice speaks 

hoarse ! 
I scream in anguish and remorse : 

God pity a poor sinner! 




r 



NEVER, NEVER, NEVER! 

A WANTON shot of a cruel hand 
Brought down the eagle from on high, 
Crippling his wings. He flapped the sand, 
In vain endeavoring still to fly, 
His shrieks all agony, a strain 
Methought it was — the wild refrain : 
"My pure, blue sky, forever 
Our ties we must now sever, 
.For I can reach thee never — never — never!" 




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NEVER, NEVER, NEVER! 

While furious gusts the waters lashed 

And rolled them back far out of reach, 
One of the finn}' tribe was dashed, 

By storm, high on the rocky beach ; 

Mute, eloquent the writhing pain 

Spoke dying, gasping the refrain: 

" My pure, green ocean, ever 

Our ties we must now sever, 

For I can reach thee never— never never!" 

More sad than these, I saw a sight 

A man, a human being, wrecked. 
All battling in a deathly fight; 

For feign he'd rise, but e'er was checked 
By cruel fate. His heart and brain, 
All full of song, moaned the refrain : 
"My pure, high home, forever 
Our ties we must now sever. 
For I can reach thee never— never — never ! " 







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OTHER POEMS. 



A CENTENNIAL POEM— 1876. * 

ONE hundred years onl}' — one hundred 
years — 
The fathers of this nation, 
'Midst hope and trembling, trust and fears. 
Signed Freedom's glorious proclamation. 
In history's annals 'tis but like a da}' — 
One hundred years only have passed awa}' ! 

From world's end to world's end . the mes- 
sage flew forth, 
To oppressed of all classes and people. 
From East to West, from South to North, 
From city to hamlet, from palace to 
steeple. 
Men welcomed it ferv^ently near and far; 
All hailed it — " Liberty's morning star ! " 

Degraded pigmies of a giant race. 

How have you guarded the treasure? 

Look at our realm, its shame and disgrace. 
It overflows the long-filled measure 

Of misery, suff'ring, starvation, and 

Crime stalking brazen through the land. 




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* At the time when this was written, as nearly everybody will remember, 
the country was in a most deplorable condition. 







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A CENI^ENNIAL POEM—i^-](i. 

Fanaticism and bigotry 

All nooks and corners are filling. 
The dollar's almighty monopoly 

The people's blood is distilling. 
Vile politicians govern the state, 
And dramshops rule the Republic's fate 



Justice is blind, and deaf, and dumb; 

Law is but trick and contrivance ; 
Truth only is honored if bringing a crumb 

Of gain from lie and connivance ; 
And patriotism means now — the woe ! — 
Corruption in office, high and low. 

There once was a time — the trembling lip 

Owns up the sad reflection — 
To boast American citizenship 

Meant safety, honor, and protection ; 
While now the pettiest tyrant must 
The " Stars and Stripes " trail in the dust. 

Shall we, then, perish ? Must we go down, 
Suicides cursed by damnation? 

Despots' stigma, Liberty's frown, 
A byword — is there no salvation? 

Devoid of hearts, of brains and hands, 

Bearing the trifiers' and cowards' brands? 







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OTHER POEMS. 

Spirit of Washington, Franklin, and Clay, 

Spirit of martyr and hero, 
Help us on High ! and, if 'you may, 

Send us the man — be it Cato or Nero — 
To raise this people from lethargy 
And drive from the temple the Pharisee. 

One hundred years hence, then — one hundred 
years — 
When thus is saved the nation, 
'Midst hopes and trembling, trust and fears. 
Saved Freedom's glorious proclamation ! 
One hundred yeai-s hence — blessed be that 

day. 
From history never to pass away ! 




\S 





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THK COLLECTOR'S WIFE. 

THE COLLECTOR'S WIFE. 

A TRUE STORY. 

'M dressed and waiting; supper is 
ready ; the house is in trim and fix. 
He told me he would be home at even — and 

now 'tis nearly six. 
The cakes and cookies and dishes I've made 

he likes so well : 
Man loves a woman better, if his taste she 
knows to tell. 

"Hurrah! I hear his Bessy's neighing! 

Hark ! he comes not alone ! 
I wonder who is his company — and — how 

long ei'e they'll be gone ? 
I rather had been without strangers ; I know 

it is selfish and sin — 
Not him ? For the first time mistaken ! They 

rap. Come in — -come in ! 

"'What would ye with me? O Heaven! 

masked faces ! My husband is gone, 

but then 
You will not harm a helpless woman, if you 

are American men ! 
19 




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-^J^iuu^g^A . 



OTHER POEMS. 

The money he has collected? the Govern- 
ment's revenue? 

Kill me! but tell I'll never where 'tis hid- 
den ; see if I do ! 

*' ' He placed it in my charge and keeping, 

leaving home — a trust 
Which while I live I'll not give over ! Try, 

if you dare and must! 
Ye twist those ropes so tightly, they cut to 

the bone my hands. 
I would not more have resisted without 

those cruel bands.' 

'* They're gone to search the house. I'd 

scream, but, alas ! no one is nigh. 
They will not find the hidden treasure, let 

them till doomsday try I 
Would that returned my husband and see 

me suffer here ! 
I'm shaking in my agony 'twixt pain, and 

hope, and fear. 

"Hark! hark! they've found the coffer. It 

staggers all belief. 
Disgraced will be as a defaulter the man I 

love — a thief! 




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T/fE COLLECTOR'S WIFE. 

The Government will denounce him, all in 
his innocence. 

Enough is money missing, convicting evi- 
dence. 

" My limbs are free again ; they bid me to 

give them supper quick. 
An interposition of Heaven clearly, 1 see in 

this foolish trick : 
These rogues tempt God their wickedness 

to punish ; and, behold ! 
1 am His humble instrument our honor to 

uphold. 

" 'Tis awful ! they jest and they make merry 

so near the brink of death ! 
I see it work already in each short and 

heaving breath : 
The poison is creeping surely and fatal 

through blood and brain. 
They're dying and expiring! I'm safe and 

free again. 

" Now quick I will unmask these villains, 
who thus their sex disgrace; 

Perhaps that I can recognize one or the 
other's face. 






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OTHER POEMS. 



Not one ol all I'm knowing — here is the 

very last — 
His mask oft', too! I'll see him, since danger 

all is past. 

"O horrible sight! O cruel vision! It can- 
not, cannot be — 

My all, my loved one, O my husband ! in 
this dread company. 

Body and soul, and safety, love, happiness, 
all gone by ; 

Housebreaker he and robber, and I, his mur- 
deress — I ! " 

Frenzied, with hair dishevelled and flying, 

with countenance ghastly and pale. 
She reaches, panting, a magistrate's office, 

and tells her fearful tale. 
Her eyes are rolling wildly, her limbs and 

body shake ; 
Madness follows her footsteps, and Death is 

in her wake. 

Then as she staggers blind, and prostrate, 

expiring, falls to the floor. 
Maniac-like, in the midst of people, she sud- % 

denly rises once more. 



1/ ^^^^gilfe U<L ^ ^^ I' ^fc .* 



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a THE RUSSIAN EXILE. 157 ,1 

f . . ^ I 

Ij With an effort wild and convulsive, until she I 

'^ is on her knees, ^^ 

\ ... . . ('' 

i; Broken exclaiming in prayer, as if inspired 1 

she sees : if 

■ . . I 

" Have mercy, Lord, on us poor sinners, in t. 

love instead of right ! |' 

Oh ! help us stray ones ; make dark places '! 

with Thine forgiveness light. 

My hus — band — ! '' And she mingles a tear i 

with her last breath, | 

A loving, tender woman, beautiful unto Vf 

death. , i 



THE RUSSIAN EXILE. 



"/^"^ YE, who know what spell contains | 

\^_J the little word of home, \f 

May ne'er ye feel the bitterness alone the j, 

world to roam, i 

Without a country, and without a friend or ^| 

loving tie, | 

As now the Russian Exile must, a maiden '| 

doomed as I : p 







OTHER POEMS. 




" A stranger in a foreign land with language 
ne'er my own, 

Like tree torn from its native soil wherein 
its youth had grown — 

One who was reared in plenty's lap, midst 
luxury and ease ; 

Now thrown a pauper on the world, de- 
prived of rest and peace. 



" Deprived of all men value dear, naught, 

naught is left for me 
Except the horror-striking claws of anguished 

memory. 
That I but might, that I but could, events 

just past forget; 
That I could veil in blackest night the cruel 

fate I met ; 

" Could I forget how men like wolves and 
tigers ravenous grew. 

And father, mother, kin and friends, in their 
wild frenzy, slew ; 

When axe and sickle ceased their work, how 
they, in ghoulish ire, 

The .loved corpses pitiless threw in the rag- 
ing fire ; 



1' 





THE RUSSIAN EXILE. 

" How they compelled me, yet a child, to 

hush my moans and shrieks — 
Look here, their nail-prints in my arm they 

dug in brutal freaks ! 
O God ! O God ! the memory it cleaves my 

heart in twain ; 
The recollections of my mind, they'll drive 

me yet insane. 



V 



** Behold, my hair is bleached in youth ; it 

has grown silver-white. 
No tongue will ever tell the tale, the horror 

of that night. 
When unsexed women swore and raved, they 

swore and raved I must, 
Right in their presence, fall a prey to carnal, 

brutal lust. 



" I in my terror and despair shrieked loud 

for death or aid, 
When strength came o'er me suddenly. Like 

tigress undismay'd 
I fought. I snatched the axe from one next 

me; 1 smote her dead, 
And, 'midst their consternation blank, into 

the night I fled. 



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OTHER POEMS. 

" The forest jungle was more kind than aught 

to me had been. 
For weeks I dwelt in hidden cave, like 

beasts live in their den ; 
I suffered hunger, parched with thirst — and 

all this my own choice. 
I dreaded nothing more than hear footfall of 

man, or voice. 

" I dared not sleep-^I cannot sleep, for in 

my haunted dreams 
The whole dread tragedy will come o'er me 

again, it seems. 
At length philanthropists abroad, touched by 

the cruel shame, 
Succeeded in their efforts, they soon to our 

rescue came. 




" Thus I was saved and brought secure 

across the ocean here. 
Oh ! thanks, kind friends ; I see that you for 

me will shed a tear. 
My eyes with weeping have grown dry ; 

they feel so hot and sore — 
My tears ran so incessantly. Henceforth I'll 

weep no more. 




> 




THE RUSSIAN EXILE. 



" And why came all this misery on my de- 
voted head ? 

Why moulder in uncounted graves our poor 
unnumbered dead ? 

Why have the mobs, the craven mobs, in 
fury risen wild ? 

Why despots did permit to kill so mother 
and so child ? 



U 



"O God of Israel! for Thee — for Thee we 
suffered all. 

For our religion we again, again as martyrs 
fall. 

As martyrs in this age of light — so called — 
humane and kind, 

While Russia tramps on human rights, fanati- 
cally blind ! 



" I have been taught from early youth not for 

revenge to pray, 
' For vengeance is the Lord's ' — is His, my 

pious teachers say. 
But here upon my knees I lie and Sabaoth 

implore : 
O Host of Justice ! be Thou iust unto Thine 




" Nay, God have pity on their souls ! No man 
could bear the weight 

That must be due to such as those with all 
their dreadful freight 

Of tears, of blood, of pangs and pain, of tor- 
tured and of slain. 

Have pity, God, upon their souls, nor let 
me pray in vain ! 

"Thou hast permitted for some good our per- 
secutors' wrath. 

No doubt to leaH Thy people 'gain upon 
their mission's path. 

Still, thanks to Thee ! in my great need I 
found Thee true, my God, 

'Midst Israel in America — my Adonoy- 
Echod ! " * 

* (Jod the One. 



V 





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THE ORPHA N ASYL UM IN VIENNA . 1 6 3 



THE ORPHAN ASYLUM IN VIENNA. 

THE Emp'ror Josef of Austria — the one 
of Hapsburg's clan 
Who never had forgotten a prince is still a 

man, 
Who gained and valued people's love as his 

most prized demesne — 
Incognito did oft traverse his capital, old 
" Wien." * 







Relieved from flattering courtiers, from poli- 
ticians free, 

His eyes behold all stages of human misery \ 

Of suffering, hardship, wrong, and woe, 
which undisguised appear. 

Injustice then was oft redressed, and dried 
up many a tear. 

On such an expedition, as once the Emperor 
went, 

sexton, who 'neath a burden 



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OTHER POEMS. 



Morose and solitary, the man moved slow 

and sore ; 
A little coffin of rough boards he on his 

shoulder bore. 

His sympathy awakened, the Monarch gently 
says : 

" What child is this you carry unto its rest- 
ing-place ? 

Is no one there to mourn the dead — no father, 
mother, kin ? 

No sorry heart, no tearful eye? It is a shame 
and sin! " 

" Alas ! " thus is made answer, with gruff", 
sardonic laugh, 

" An orphan boy I bury ; his parents* beggar- 
staff 

Was all he e'er possessed on earth when 
found in fever's grasp 

Upon the pavement of the street. ' Bread ! ' 
was his dying gasp ! " 

" Oh, may the Lord have mercy ! " the deep- 
moved sovereign cried ; 

" A child in Christian country has of starva- 
tion died!" 



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THE ORPHA N ASYL UM IN VIENNA . I 6 5 

He follows mourning to the grave, devoutl}^ 
praying there, 

As sorry as if the deceased one of his kin- 
dred were. 

And when the little mound was erected on 

the ground, 
His Majesty yet lingers, kneels down, like 

one spell-bound. 
With upraised eyes and folded hands, the 

sunset on his brow, 
Resembling saint or angel, he did make this 

solemn vow : 

"Ne'er shall again my empire disgraced be 
and defiled ; 

For bread ne'er cry to Heaven a hungry 
orphan child 

Within my realm — so help me God when 
comes my life's last hour!" 

Most nobly was the promise kept, with bless- 
ings' fullest show'r. , 

The Emp'ror Josef of Austria had many a 

monument built ; 
His noble deeds are written in marble and 

in gilt; 



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OTHER POEMS. 



Yet long when these have perished lives his 

meni'ry, graced and green, 
As founder of the " Orphan Home " which 

bears his name in " Wien." 




THE ORIGIN OF THE DIAMOND.* 

LISTEN to the curious story 
How the Diamond in its glory 
Grew amidst the giant blocks 
In the strata of the rocks; 
How the precious stone was wrought 
From a spark of light and thought ; 
Love-light shining on our earth. 
In a tear the gem had birth. 
Thought, to light and love obedient, 
Its most pure and prized ingredient. 



As from presence of the Lord 
Satan and his rebel horde, 
By ambition wild and fell, 
Hurled were into deepest hell- 





THE ORIGIN OF THE DIAMOND. 

Doomed to lire, fear, and pain, 
Without sunshine, light, or rain — 
Mercy, the bright angel, crept 
To the throne of God and wept 
A hot tear, in deep prostration. 
E'en for Hades' last salvation. 



And this drop, so tells the story. 
Grew a jewel in its glory. 
Falling 'midst the giant blocks 
In the strata of the rocks. 
As an emblem it was wrought, 
Sparkling light, and love, and thought. 
Crystallized proclaims the tear. 
Final quenching fire and fear ! 
Heaven's promise, Mercy's token, 
Are, like diamonds, never broken. 




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URIEL DA COSTA. 

[A Jewish refugee from Portugal, where he and his family had been forced 
into Catholicism. On arriving in Amsterdam he rejoined Judaism. Soon, 
however, by his free-thought, he came in conflict with the.Rabbins, and had to 
do public penance. Mortified by this humiliation, he killed himself, a.d. 1644.] 

CURSED by the holy Synagogue, 
Is he a sinner, knave, or rogue ? 

With folded hands, but knitted brow, 
Before the Rabbins he does bow ; 

A culprit, made to bend his knee 
In shame and penance. Who is he? 

A man who, in the dark of night, 
Has seen the dawning of the light. 

By glorious visions all inspired, 
The house of prejudice he fired. 

Not asking how it burn and scorch. 
He lit and waved the flaming torch, 

And narrow-mindedness felt weak. 
Oh ! how the hypocrites did shriek. 

And how fanatics clamored wild, 
"'Sanctum Sanctorum' is defiled!" 

Thus loud goes forth their hue and cry ! 
Will might prevail, and tyranny ? 



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URIEL DA COSTA. 

The grand " Sanhedrin " does decree : 
" Renounce th}^ false philosoph}'' ! 

" A heretic thou art, defamed ; 

The Cherem godoul ^ WQ proclaimed!" 

Who in that malediction stays 
Were better dead those cruel days, 

When ignorance takes quick in hand 
What superstition does command ; 

Of all the stiff-necked, stubborn crew, 
The worst is a fanatic Jew. 

The people and their priests combine; 
They have him at the sacred shrine. 

All too unequal is the fight — 

They bid him say that" wrong is right ! 

And though his heart and soul be rent, 
They made him own it : "I repent ! " 

Repent he said, the book records ; 
He spoke the bitter, hateful words. 

Upon his neck they placed their feet, 
His humiliation to complete. 

* The anathema of the Rabbins in former times when they had 
ecclesiastical jurisdiction. 
21 



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gS^i";:^! I'^ria 



OTHER POEMS. 

Nor Moses nor the Prophets cite 
Such Catholic-inquisition lite. 

But Israelites in Holland try 
What Spanish monks but justify ; 

Which proves : no folly is so great 
Blind zealots will not imitate. 

But while at times men have been hushed, 
The Truth proclaimed, was never crushed ! 

Such seed once sown will grow along 
Foriiarvest sure, almighty strong! 

The little souls their work have done ; 
They thought extinguished was the sun. 

Since they had shut their sleepy eyes 
And grinned so mighty and so wise. 

But though ere this men had been hushed, 
God's truth proclaimed, is never crushed ! 

Thus while their victim's heart ached sore, 
Da Costa's name lives evermore. 




" 




| U^ ' ^^ 



^^sr^ 



A DOCTOR'S PANEGYRIC. 




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A DOCTOR'S PANEGYRIC 

BEFORE THE ANNUAL MEDICO SOCIETY. 

LADIES and Sirs! Most welcome here, 
dear friends ; 
And while I'd make for my poor words and 

rhymes amends, 
Pray give ye close attention for the task 

assigned, 
To eulogize our calling— one most high and 

kind. 

The noblest of all missions : 
Profession of Physicians. 

Not that I would attempt to slur or under- 
rate 
Other crafts and arts. Society and state. 
Mankind for its development and fullest 

strength 
Requires them, too, in fullest width, and 
height, and length. 

Bless all that break a fetter 
Or make us nobler, better ! 






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OTHER POEMS. 



But thrice blest certainly should be the 

earnest man, 
Devoting all his life, whate'er he is and can, 
To alleviate the pangs and suff'ring of our 

kind — 
The sick, the weak, the halt, the lame and 
blind, 

The sore in heart and feeling — 
By the great art of healing. 



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There is no season, hot or cold, the doctor 

may 
Look for his ease or comfort. In stormiest 

night or day 
He must be ready at a patient's slightest 

call. 
Hungry, thirsty, though the eyes with sleep 

may fall. 

None of all these are heeded, 
He's at his post when needed. 

For wisdom to High Heaven he directs his 





He watches close and reads the changes of 
the sky. 




^» . ^J > — -]» l fi . 



A DOCTOR'S PANEGYRIC. 

Into the bowels of the earth he arduous 

dives 
For treasures there concealed which will 
save human lives. 

All nature he'll explore, 
Health failing to restore. 




The min'i-als turn to medicines at his be- 
hest. 
The vegetable realm gives balm at his re- 
quest. 
The animal kingdom, too, waits his command 
To turn restorative at his benignant hand. 
E'en poison's deathly ranges 
Into health-power he changes. 

Have ever you been vouchsafed, closely to 
behold 

The anxious looks of all the household, 
young and old, 

When o'er the baby-sufif'rer their kind doc- 
tor bends and bides? 

He counts the pulse ; all breathless wait till 
he decides : 

Is pet to live? God save her! 
Or go to Him who gave her? 




I' 



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OTHER POEMS. 



Have e'er you stood close by when mother, 

seeming low, 
In fever's grasp, her waning breath comes 

hot and slow ; 
When husband, sons, and daughters silent, 

tearful pray 
Her to be safe, and hear at last the doctor 

say, 

." Thank Heaven, I fear no longer — 
The crisis left her stronger " ? 




\s 



And oh ! the grief and sorrow when, in spite 
of skill 

And all that can be done by science and 
best of will. 

At last grim Death will claim the sufif'rer as 
his own, 

Amidst the woe, the tears, the sobs, heart- 
rending groan. 

Dumbfounded, mute appealing — 
Ay, doctors too have feeling ! 



Many an hour and many a day is thus made 

sad 
In vigils from the cradle to the grave. And 

add 









-J^^^ "•^U^ iwi I '^r i! 



A DOCTOR'S PANEGYRIC. 

That this oft happens 'midst the ranks of 

veriest poor — 
An evil for which there seems neither help 
iior cure — 

Take all in all, and can we 
The good profession envy? 

Still, our reward is: duty well and true per- 
formed ; 

Grief stilled that in some bosom wildly raged 
and stormed ; 

Tears dried which would in anguish all un- 
bidden flow ; 

And pallid cheeks with health and color 
made to glow. 

Unselfish satisfaction, 

Man's best of thought and action! 

To strengthen such great purpose, foster such 

high ends. 
Assemble, here in council yearly, all true 

friends. 
Once more, theti, welcome ! Let us prove by 

work combined 
To elevate our calling — one most high and kind, 
The noblest of all missions : 
Profession of Physicians. 





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OTHER POEMS. 

AN APPEAL TO AMERICA 

AGAINST SECTARIAN AGITATIONS. 



THOU, too, great, glorious, free-born 
dame, 
Art urged to black thy unstained name, 
With persecution's foulest shame. 

Thou, too, upon thy favored soil, 
Art called upon to join the spoil 
For which barbarians toiled and toil. 

The Nineteenth Century looks on 
With all it has for mankind done, 
And trembles for thy victories won. 

Thy heroes dead, in reverenced graves 
O'er which immortal triumph waves, 
Fanaticism taunts and braves. 

The grandest of prerogative, 
Thy great palladium, conceive 
Torn, desecrated, positive, 




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AN APPEAL TO AMERICA. 

Except thou stay the upraised hand 
Which in this time and in this land 
Would curse thy brow with Cain's vilfe brand ; 

Except thy foot, O giantess ! 

Comes down in ire, stern for redress. 

As raise thy arms in tenderness; 

Except thou bid each creed and church : 
" Here is no room where Hatred's torch 
For blood}^ strife and tears ma}' search ; 

" But in this realm of wide expanse 
Reigns Liberty's deliverance 
In panoply of Tolerance!" 






'■'■Behold in 7na7ble chiselled the ideal !" — Part III., p. 197. 
EZEKIEL'S STATUE OF RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. 




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DEDICATORY ADDRESS 

AT THE ERECTION IN PHILADELPHIA, 1876, OF 
EZEKIEL'S. STA TUE : RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. 

PART FIRST. 

THE themes immortal sung by bards 
have been 
Of glorious nations and heroic men ; 
And tears and smiles a verse has often 

stirred, 
A tale of fate which conquered, loved, or 

erred. 
For in all times, no matter where and when, 
Like unto birds of mountain, dell, and glen, 
Man sings of goal attained and hope deferred. 
Thus came these rhymes; if lacking beauty's 

grace, 
Indulge the nosegay, though in broken vase. 

There lives a people in whose very name 
Is centred human glory and their shame — 






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EPITOMA JUDAIC A. 

A people whose proud records plainly tell 
How earth can be made paradise or hell. 
This nation, who has wrought its own high 

fame, 
Bright from the furnace of its trials came ; 
May I forget my right hand, Israel, 
If I forget thee- — thee to whom belongs 
Whate'er is worthy in these humble songs ! 

'Tis near four thousand years when there 

went forth 
The patriarch who, chosen for his worth, 
Was bid, as told in the Old Testament, 
Upon his mission of world-wide extent 
To go and " bless all nations of the earth," 
By making declarations of the birth 
Of Heaven's will, revealed most eloquent 
In this one sentence : " Adonai Echod ! " * 
Which means : There is but One, one only 

God. 

As chaos vanished at the grand behest, 

" Let there be light ! " — light. Heaven's gift 

the best ! — 
So was the darkness in the moral world 
Into the abyss of dread destruction hurl'd. 

* God is but One. 






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EPITOMA JUDAIC A. 

For this one revelation forms the crest 

Of Abram's unique, precious, grand bequest. 

From thence was Israel's banner wide un- 

furl'd— 
One God! the watchword in its simple 

phrase ; 
One God ! the mission for all future days. 




} 



The slave in Egypt, who beneath his chains 
And grievous burdens groaned and bore his 

pains. 
Inflicted by the heartless master's whip — 
The cruel hands that smote him thigh and 

hip — 
While he whate'er is brutal still sustains. 
In spite of all, the strongest trust maintains. 
His eyes dilate, his convulsed musc'lar grip 
The task performs, with breath of life near 

gone, 
Great in despair, believes : " God is but 

One!" 

And Moses came and saved his shackled 

race. 
The freedmen stand on awe-topped " Sinai's " 

base, 



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EPITOMA JUDAIC A. 

And there, from out of thunder, clouds, and 
flame, 

Eternal truth, the laws of mankind came. 

"I am thy God!" Be free! have love and 
grace. 

Heaven folding Earth, her mate, in fond em- 
brace, 

"Amen!" did loud the universe proclaim. 

Our globe turned into one great Synagogue, 

And benediction was — the decalogue. 




^1 "I am thy God — One God ! " This is the 

key 
To all found subsequent in history. 
' Complex as proves the lock of life, 'twill fit 
To ope the treasure stored in holy writ. 
In secular annals naught is mystery — 
Fiat to doubt! quietus to sophistry! 
Science and reason shall in judgment sit. 
Like mathematics, solving this One-say, 
The darkness of the past, the light to-day. 



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Israel, dwelling in fair Palestine, 
Built a temple and its holy shrine. 
Slowly and gradually, but firm stepped on, 
Developing the truth of "God the One"; 





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EPITOMA yUDAICA. ■ 

Oft staggering, erring, clouding the Divine, 
Sure paying for its frequent sins the fine. 
But in transgressing, too, the work was done, 
For nothing clogs the wheel of fixed intents: 
E'en folly is one of God's instruments! 

A chosen people, by divine decree 
Recipients they and guardians were to be 
Of an eternal law — a principle— a truth ! 
Yet they were men in weakness, faults, for- 
sooth, 
And oft to idols turned and bent the knee — 
And with our vast experience so do we. 
Nor to become exclusive or uncouth 
Were they elected. Models they should shine 
In all that's noble, virtuous, good, and fine. 

When, by the rule of evolution true, 

Some other nations reached the standard, too, 

At which they should and ought partake of 

right. 
The knowledge of the truth, the bliss of light, 
'Twas then the holy land too narrow grew : 
The Temple fell ; the Hebrew bade adieu 
To home and sacred shrine, in tears and 

fright. 

24 




m-^ iii« >^ iii ^k^ i rl 



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EPITOMA JUDAIC A. 



As every birth is wrapt in pangs and fear, 
So men do enter on each new career. 




Well may the wand'rer sorrow when he leaves 
His home and countr}' ; when he pines and 

grieves 
From all that is deemed dear and loved to 

part. 
Well may the pilgrim mourn with trembling 

heart, 
But, knowing what he loses, not conceives 
The goal before him ; and the dream he 

weaves 
Is to return e'en ere he makes a start. 
Hebrew, go forth again ! God's frowns and 

smiles 
Extend His will beyond a few square miles ! 



i 



Twice lay Jerusalem in ashes. Rome 
Engraved in human blood the epitome 
Of her destructive instincts. Captive, slave, 
Israel as a nation found its grave 
Among the seven hills ; beneath the dome 
It built the Coliseum. Stone and loam 
Were merciful compared to Titus brave. 




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EPITOMA JUDAICA.- 

But " Adonai Echod " remained their code, 
In history the grandest episode. 

PART SECOND, 

There is no standstill in events, but thought 

will often pause. 
Reflecting on the logic stern of consequence 

and cause. 
Right here some heroes of this world might 

well a lesson learn — 
Those who oppressed would freedom and their 

independence earn ; 
Invincible God's people were while Union 

there presided : 
The first-best conqueror laid them low when 

they became divided. 

Events went on, and ver}^ soon the clash of 
nations came ; 

Fierce cohorts fell upon cohorts ; the world 
shook in her frame. 

The Hun against the Roman struck, the Nor- 
man 'gainst the Hun ; 

The Teuton, Anglo-Saxon, all in battle's circle 



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EPITOMA yUDAICA. 

From one end of the continent of Europe to 

the other, 
Each tribe and clan seemed bent upon his 

neiafhbor's life to smother. 



\ 



And when the clash of armor ceased, Rome 

was no more, nor Greece ; 
New rulers occupied the thrones, w^^ thoughts 

came with the peace. 
An humble child of Nazareth, of Jewish 

parents born, 
A martyr on the crucifix, wreathed with a 

crown of thorn — 
He preached the law, he taught reform, to 

worship the Creator ; 
He died the death at Roman hands, as died 

with them the traitor. 
• 

Meek, simple, loving words his were, full of 

God's spirit each, 
In different terms but self-same sense as Law 

and Prophets teach. 
His followers were few at first, but soon in 

numbers swelled. 
And then increased to multitudes that were 

unparalleled. 




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EPITOMA yUDAICA. 



But as they grew, his thoughts, his words, 

his labors were deserted ; 
They changed the teacher to a God : his 

mission was perverted. 



At least so thought the Jews ; and so they 

think this very day. 
One God for them was well enough in whom 

to trust, to pray. 
One only God — no Trinity — is what their 

Scriptures teach ; 
Let whosoever dare this faith, yet unim- 

peached, impeach. 
And since they would not join the crowd as 

followers and suitors, 
They were accused and soon decried the 

Saviour's persecutors. 



^1 



^1 



The new creed met vicissitudes and suffered 

martyrdom. 
From under which a cause grows strong and 

never does succumb. 
Had men but learned the lesson then, what 

tolerance should be — 
"Do unto others as ye would that others 

do to ye ! " 




EPITOMA JUDAIC A. 



But once their trials chang-ed to power, in 

hamlet, town, and city 
They placed their feet upon the necks of 

others without pity. 




What then was done and there was done it 

harrows heart and soul, 
In Christ's name and religion's name all o'er, 

from pole to pole. 
The curse again went forth from Rome, 

launched out the blasting cue : 
" Move on ! move on ! forever on ! proscribed 

and outcast Jew. 
Like Cain, find never rest, nor peace, nor 

place to live, nor shelter. 
Move on ! Who finds thee has permit in 

Hebrew blood to welter." 



"Move on!" shrieked Italy, ''Move on!" 

in her intensest strain. 
" Move on ! " Spain echoed shrill, " Move 

on ! " O cruel, cruel Spain ! 
France, Germany, and Britain cried, and 

every petty prince : 
" Move on, Jew, move ! no matter how you 

suffer, cry, and wince." 




■ <L 1 *"^ <L,' 




EPITOMA JUDAIC A. 



Such horror, devilish outrage fill that pe- 
riod's blood-stained pages, 

Such misery, barbarity — well are they called 
''Dark Ages!" 

Behold this tableau : On his knees, the eyes 
raised up on high. 

As if imploring Heaven and man against such 
tyranny ; 

Each feature speaks of agony — the hands 
clutched in his hair ; 

Wife, children, crouching by his side, a pic- 
ture of despair. 

The Jew moves on, forever on, and hither, 
thither wanders. 

Still trusting "Adonai Echod ! " — a faith he 
never slanders. 



> 



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Like hunted game the Israelite seeks refuge 
in the caves ; 

He loses all — no matter, if the scroll of law 
he saves. 

There is no war but that recoils upon his 
head a scourge, 

No peace is made but brings him near anni- 
hilation's verge. 




; -*|BiW*HL.">^ ^ g^ig^^^^SS : 





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EPITOMA JUDAIC A. 



Well might he sing in David's words, with 

tones that sadly quiver : 
" How long, O Lord, before Thou wilt Thy 

stricken ones deliver?" 

Somehow submissively they lived and patient- 
ly endured. 

They prayed, they learned, they worked, they 
hoped, but ne'er their creed abjured. 

No retaliating hand they raised through cen- 
turies of woe — 

Who ever knew a Jew to take revenge upon 
his foe ? 

To "Adonai Echod " belongs the judgment! 
so no wonder 

Fanatics, priestcraft, tyranny, not Israel, 
went under. 




W 



PART THIRD. 

The nightmare-dream, the terror, all is o'er ; 
\ I Changed are the passions which had ruled 

of yore ; 
The storms that raked humanity are past ; 
From out of darkness light breaks forth at 

last. 



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EPITOMA JUDAIC A. 



Free breathes the lover of his race once 

more ; 
Intolerance is smitten root and core. 
The ship of state has "Progress" for her 

mast ; 
A flag- she flings out at her topmost staff", 
Won by the press, and steam, and telegraph. 

Miraculously these noble powers have wrought; 
All that's humane is in close contact brought. 
Hate, prejudice, the rule of sword and fist, 
No more can in our century exist. 
Well are the battles of enlight'ment fought; 
The victory belonged to God and human 

thought ! 
Chief adjutant has been the scientist — 
Who would have prophesied it? Rome and 

Spain 
In this great revolution led the main ! 



For while their savage inquisitions yet 

The deadly instruments of torture whet 

'Neath which their life-blood heretics to spurt, 

The victims to convince thus and convert — 

Columbus brave his ships and sailors met, 

And westward ho! his sails of empire set. 
25 




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194 



EPITOMA JUDAICA 



A world he found, compared to which inert 
The old one should become — America, thee ! 
Creation's pearl ! God's home for liberty ! 




Nor came it all at once ! 'Tis true, they say : 
" The laws of Heaven slowl}^ work their way ! " 
The ocean, when upheaved, shows long his 

might, 
And morning dawns but gradually from night. 
It would take volumes, not a roundelay, 
To record the slow gait of reason's sway — 
How people learned to see the wrong from 

right, 
How sages tackled tolly, crime, and fault, 
How men of iron nerves dared to revolt. 



All hail to France ! The foremost torch she 

lit; 
Headlong she dared the strongest blow to 

hit 
Hv which the hold of tyranny was rent 
From all of Europe. The whole continent 
With trembling saw the bold, unswerving grit, 
And slow but surely imitated it. 
Decreeing, 'midst the despot's fear and awe, 
Mankind's equality before the law ! 





EPITOMA yUDA ICA . 

All hail to Germany, too, the fatherland! — 
Though now once more she hurls the fire- 
brand 
Against her children. She will bewail ere 

long 
Her latest crime, her monstrous, insane 

wrong. 
Still shall her sons erect and proud yet stand. 
From out this crisis grows a free-born band 
Of brothers, singing the sublimest song. 
A free republic will all creeds combine : 
" Eine feste Burg "* and " Wacht am Rhein ! " f 



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All hail, Britannia, free and noble isle ! 

We have forgot our wrongs beneath thy 

smile. 
Since "Magna Charta " came to rule and 

bless. 
Like lightning flew oppression and distress. 
Her sentiments are truth, her law no guile; 
She knows but citizens — one vast, great pile. 
Secure beneath her reign. In tenderness 
God bless her ! and clear that last stern 

Irown ! — 
May Ireland, too, be jewel to her crown ! 

* Rock of Ages, t Guard of the Rhine. 



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EPITOMA JUDAIC A. 

All hail, too, Italy! All hail, too, Spain! 
Though ye have caused our tears to flow 

like rain, 
And slow e'en now to follow in the wake 
Of roads which more enlightened people 

take. 
Ye may, with Russia and few others, strain 
Against the spirit of the time. 'Tis vain ! 
Beware, lest Heaven, outraged, crush and 

shake 
You, dome and pit, and lay you in the dust ! 
For in our days men will be free, and must! 






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Yes, hail, accursed Russia! Sure as fate 
Full retribution will come soon or late, 
For every drop of blood, for every tear, 
For ever}' anguish, every cry of fear 
From orphans and from widows sent on 

High ; 
For murder, outrage, violence, and, fie I 
Child-slaying — in our days, fresh in our ear — 
As infamous these deeds are in our time. 
Will sevenfold seven Russia wail the crime. 



w 



While "Glory! Hallelujah!" loud and long. 
Unto America shall be the song: 





EPITOMA JUDAIC A. 



The Centenarian Republic live ! 
Cheers upon cheers united let us give I 
Youngest of the nations ! to thee belong 
The honors that thy founders skyward flung, 
The banner of our great prerogative. 
The declaration of our liberty : 
All men are independent ! equal!! 
FREE ! ! ! 




\ 



In this rich panopl})- of manhood decked, 
The Jew again stands forth, restored, erect. 
He may untrammelled worship God, the 

Great, 
With others, as their consciences dictate. 
Men, citizens, regardless creed or sect. 
May loyal live, believe as they elect, 
Without reproach to fellow-men or hate. 
Our Hebrew people act as prototypes ; 
Hew down the arm raised 'gainst the Stars 

and Stripes ! 



»' 



Behold in marble chiselled the ideal 

Of all we suffered, passed, and loved, and 

feel: 
" Religious Liberty ! " with eyes on high. 
Eagle and snake "Intolerance crushed" imply. 





^^^^•^gfma^^tma 



EPITOMA JUDAIC A. 

The Innocent makes by hei- side appeal 
That light may future, better days reveal. 
And if you ask us for the reason why, • 
Then thus be told : Fast comes the reign of 

God 
When mankind owns it— ADONAI ECHOD ! 





" 



THE END. 





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